Rather Good Ideas
by ChangerOfNames
Summary: Here are ideas for Doctor Who that I've played with and discarded. Any of these ideas are up for adoption, as all of my oneshots are, really, but this is less complete-feeling. Enjoy! Each "chapter" is a different idea. Feel free to skip through the titles that don't interest you, since I title them after the general idea of them.
1. The Third One

_I was dead. I was alive. I was neither alive nor dead. I was Life. I was Death. I was... Their sister-brother? Their triplet. We are triplets, and I was the unwanted third child. Not Life, not Death, something else. Undeath. Nonlife. I preferred the term "Vampire". I even made them after Life's and Death's playthings created them! Humans, so imaginative. Us triplets, the triplets of All, the trio of the Multiverses, we... weren't anything like Humans imagined. Nah, we were mature, yeah, but we preferred to act like big, menacing, above-even-gods, children. I mean, yeah, we do indeed have a single responsibility; Our responsibility is to keep the Multiverses from collapsing- and the universes, though mainly because if two or more universes collapse the entire multiverse collapses. But that rarely happens, so we get to be as immature as we want. And we well enjoyed fucking around with Life's playthings. Bored? Have a Human just-so-happen to see a demon or two, then watch the aftermath. Annoyed? Hurricanes and firestorms are good distractions. Downright pissed? Eh, we didn't like the dinosaurs anyways. Well, by that I mean we killed off millions of species, all across the Control Universe. Particularly vengeful? Hey, you know what mosquitos are? Yeah, you're welcome. Life created them. Death and I gave the ideas, of course. Mini-insect-vampires that can kill? Hell yeah, I helped make that shit happen. Badass, they are. All of them. Humans weren't the first things we created, obviously, but they sure are the best to fuck with. So many ways to kill them off, and they even are smart enough to understand the basics of existence! And by basics, I mean really basic. As a reference, it's like putting the er, smartest human (times a few billion) and putting them into pre-school again. At the same pace. Treated the same way as all others. Basics of existing. They haven't even figured out the rules of creating! Seriously, the materials are all there, will always be there, but they haven't even thought of creating stuff with it! Only dividing it. Honestly, the amount of times I had to erase a black hole from existence because of their stupidity. Anyway, back on track. I'm Vampire. I named myself, since Humans didn't even bother naming me. "Oh, Life, Death, and there's nothing else. No inbetween. Nope." Those assholes. Well, I didn't name myself, a single Human did. Because rocks are vampires. As are the frozen explosions. Totally. Dark matter actually is Vampiric, so I won't comment on that. Okay, okay. Back on track, I'm Vampire. The unwanted, nonvisualized third child. So. That's the introduction, full of ranting and most of it you can't even read because I can't translate it into Human. I can translate it into kanine though, but you haven't quite figured that out yet, and most certainly never will for text. Anyway. We are triplets. And we build, destroy, help, stop, kill, and bring into existence most things. Most, because Humans have caught on to the basics of creation and created some things too. Like plastic. Again, materials are all there, and Humans decided in all their finite glory, to accidentally make plastic. And walking, because Humans decided that water was not where they should be. The idiots, they were just a bit better than dolphins and what do they do? Decide to leave to destroy the rest of our creation. My point is, hello! Let's get to business. I'm Vampire, as I've repeated quite often. The Control Universe is the one next to this one, actually. This is as close to the Control Universe you can be while not actually being in it. Humans have evolved quite a bit there, looking greyish with comically big black eyes. That's the universe We usually don't fuck with. We do make natural disasters, but we don't stop black holes, alter the fabric of that reality, or create anything there that we wouldn't in this multiverse group. The Control Multiverse, where nothing really exists here. Demons, Reapers, Angels? Yeah, they're not really here. They have to be 'summoned' as you humans aptly called it. From another multiverse. Where they exist. Summoned isn't really true, they can get here on their own if they want, but they just don't. Control Universe? Boring compared to theirs. So, the point of me ranting and raving on this? Well, I don't feel like stitching together the rips and tears between multiverses, so this is just a warning that some things might change. Throughout time. Good luck._

I stopped writing when my brother Death and sister Life appeared. They were scowling at me, so one of my creations must've been messing with the universes in their multiverse again. "Yo, sup?" I asked, spinning around in my chair, standing on NullSpace. The void of the Void. If you thought the Void was hell, NullSpace is worse. It's pure nothing, but you can't age, feel anything, see anything, etc. even with a Void ship. Of course, We could feel and see and do whatever we wished. But We were different. We were just consciousness and existence. We are existence itself, so NullSpace had no effect.

"Next time you create 'better' humans, don't make them Lords of Time and able to alter and move through dimensions. The entire Multiverse grouping of Gallifrey is going to collapse, the Control of that Multiverse is literally on the verge of unravelling! Go fix it! Now!" Life demanded, and I sighed heavily, glancing at the listings.

"Hey- that's not the Time Lord's faults! In the Control and the ones close to Control I got rid of all but my favorite two because I didn't want the Multiverse to collapse! There's no way it was the Time Lord's fault either, because these Time Lords are the most incompetent in existence! That doesn't suddenly change because they think Gallifrey the planet is gone!" I argued, pushing my chair over to the area my siblings were looking at. My eyes widened when I saw the damage. "Wh-what? Bad Wolf? That's- that can't happen! Warrior... Bad Wo- damn that girl! She made the incompetents so damned competent that he could rip apart that entire side of the Null!" I cursed, standing up and vanishing my desk and chair. Fuck, I didn't want to do my job, that's just boring. She looked through the entire Multiverse, no wonder it's on the verge of collapse! But that wasn't my fault! I didn't create TARDIS's, I just helped design them... I sighed heavily.

"You're the one who insisted that Time become a thing," Death reminded me, making sure he didn't have to do it. Bad Wolf made it so that we couldn't just vanish her, she created herself and joined herself to the entire multiverse. If she was vanished, the entire Multiverse vanished too, and we couldn't do that. It went against our single responsibility. To continue existence.

"Only because you kept whining about not having enough deaths happening," I growled back, running a hand through my hair. The TARDIS was connected to Time itself, so we couldn't vanish that. The Doctor and The Master were safeguarded by Bad Wolf too. Damn, I have to go into the actual Universe if I couldn't get the responsibility shoved onto one of the others. "Life, it's your domain what any of the living do, and she was human! You created humans! So just- ouch!" I clutched my stomach as Life punched me, also giving me an uppercut into the Control Universe. I groaned, in pain. I was weaker than both Life and Death, them having more hold in NullSpace than me, seeing as most of my energy goes to maintaining the Voids and never-living-never-dying things like rocks and stars. Of course, I created explosions, but Death and Life both worked together to make the explosions contained, which disappointed me. Now I use way more energy, forced to maintain each and every explosion until it becomes a black hole. And by explosion, yes, I mean suns and stars. And small-scale explosions like nuclear bombs and stuff.

"Uhhhnnnng," I moaned, hating the feeling of being soaked in air. Ugh, such an odd feeling. How do mortals do it all the time, being pressed on all sides by something so... so... air. I suppose I'm feeling like they would if they were put in clear tar. Or thick oil. Thick, clear oil. That they could breathe in. I shuddered, uncomfortable with the feeling of air and so damned glad that I didn't have to breathe. I decide to go somewhere much more comfortable- the Vortex.

When I put myself in the swirling clouds of the Vortex, I relaxed. Wind, excellent. Air? Nah. Wind just pushes air and dust and stuff around on Earth, but it's always there, whether there's stuff like air to push around or not. I loved wind. Air? Not so good. I closed my eyes, just enjoying the feeling of not having air seeping into me, atom by atom. I almost started to smile before I got hit. Hard. I flew back, away from the thing that hit me and landed on something, scowling at the feel of air sticking to me again. That asshole hit me hard enough to knock me out of the Vortex! What the hell? I growled when the thing that hit me landed near me, a Time Lord rushing out of it. I glared, feeling it's hesitation and apology. What. The. Hell. I create a Tsunami to hit Australia to calm myself down, closing my eyes for a moment.

I felt hands on me, and I opened my eyes to see the Time Lord that rushed out of the TARDIS. "Are you okay? How did you survive? Why were you in the Vortex? What are you?" He asked rapidly.

"Shut the fuck up, Mortal," I started, having already had a bad day before he hit me, him just making it worse. Compared to my wrath, the Oncoming Storm was closer to a ripple in a puddle. Being compared to a Dust Storm galaxies wide. Such insignificance, but important nonetheless. Because I really needed someone to point my wrath at, "You -" I cut myself off, gritting my teeth. My eyes snapped open. "Oooh, teeth! That's new. Teeth- oh, they feel so weird." I chatter my teeth, tongue running along my teeth as I jumped up. "Oh! A tongue- oh, ew, slimy- what the hell why do I have a tentacle in my mouth eugh." I pull at my tongue making a face before looking down at my hands, one finger now slimy on the left one. "Hands! I have hands! _Human_ hands, oh dang! Oh that's so weird," I tap my fingers together after wiping the slimy one off on my jeans. "I even have a human face- oh- that- is that a nose? No, that's an eyebrow." I'm slapped in the face, and my head turns. I looked at the one who did it and saw a redhead looking irritated. My hands- _I have hands now! Cool!_ \- fall from my new face.

"Oh god, there's _two of you_!" She yelled at the Doctor, making me confused.

"I'm not the Doctor, I'm myself. He's the Doctor. We aren't the same?" I said, confused. Is she seeing things? Is she okay? Was she one of those insane Humans? The Doctor looked at me, face turning serious.

"How do you know who I am?" He asked, and I rolled my eyes.

"I created you, you fucking loser. How _wouldn't_ I know you? Ow, she hits harder than Life. Seriously, I think she'd have broken my jaw had I been Human," I said, adding the last part at the Doctor's incredulous face. I inhaled, immediately gagging. "Air- fuck- ew getitoutgetitoutairewgetitoutohit'sgonenow." I stumbled shaking my head at the disgusting feeling of air in me. "Oh! I even have lungs now! Cool!" I brighten considerably. While Death took the form of a humanoid and Life took form as a regular tree I just didn't take form. There was no point, I was a consciousness, why would I care what I looked like? But now that I had a form, I'm ashamed to admit I was extremely excited. I grinned like a loon and jumped around. "I have a body! This is so cool! Okay, okay. Serious time." I muttered to myself, just generally enjoying existing.

The redhead, whose name is… Donna, I decided, changing her name retroactively, started forward, crossing her arms and scowling at me.

"Who are you?" She asked forcefully.

"I am the triplet of Life and Death, creator of Time Lords and rocks," I said proudly. I deflated a bit when I saw the Doctor mouth 'rocks?' to himself. I pouted, "Hey! Don't diss the rocks! You were born on a rock! This is a rock! You were made from rocks." I said decisively. I crossed my arms. Getting comfortable as I actually get serious, excitement and confusion fading, I stare at my problems. This is the wrong time, but this Donna chick is entwined with the Doctor, which could kill her. I hummed, altering the glowing lines a bit and watching as she stumbled. She could now handle what was thrown at her from Bad Wolf. _One of the cracks has been fixed. Only twenty or so more. Or less. Or more. I didn't really count them._

"If you _are_ the triplet of- of _Life and Death_ what are you doing here?" Donna sassed, crossing her own arms. I blinked, sighing.

"Of course, if it was Life or Death you'd have believed them more," I whined, "Anyway, this Multiverse is about to collapse, I'm here to fix what Bad Wolf has fucked up. You are the first thing I fixed, Donna." I said, distracted as I felt around for another anomaly surrounded by golden light. _A human? A fixed point in time? Really… I need to fix that, but that's all the way in Cardiff._

"Me? Oh, I'll give you something to fix you-" Donna was interrupted by me temporarily erasing her vocal cords.

"I meant in the future, something happens that makes you have to forget the majority of who you are, I fixed that so you don't have to die or get amnesia," I explained, bored as I walked towards the TARDIS.

"Your name?" I demanded of the box. I immediately regret giving Donna her vocal cords back as she makes fun of me.

"Oh, you're a nutter! You're talking to a _box_ now!" She exclaimed, only to quiet down when the Doctor defended me. I scoffed at her answer.

"Sexy? Your name is _Sexy_? Who named you, a horny teenager?" I replied, not noticing the Doctor cringing behind me. I chuckled at her reply, which was a definite _yes_.

"Okay, but I meant their name, their being- who actually named you. We both know what names mean, and he apparently hasn't told you your full name," I asked once more.

"Ah, er, um. That would be me, and her full name is uh. Sexy Girl." He uttered, having been forced to say it aloud as soon as I heard he was the one who named her. He looked pissed, but I ignored him. "Sexy Girl. Okay. Sexy Girl, I have taken ownership of you by legal right as your Creator, under Time Olde Law number 2." The Doctor gaped at me when the door opened for me, and followed me into my TARDIS.

"What? But- time old law isn't a thing! And- she shouldn't have let you do that…" He trailed off as I told Sexy to take me to Cardiff, to the immortal man. Immediately upon her solidification the immortal man ran in, stopping when he saw me. His eyes widened, him having recognized my presence. The presence of something there, even when one died. Something that could come through at any time. Sound familiar? In the Control Multiverse, it's an episode of Torchwood. The ending was altered though, sadly. That was my time to shine and the Control changed the ending. Sad. The immortal man immediately got down on one knee.

"Your Majesty," He said, and I stared at him, confused. Oh, right. When we spoke I told him I had control over all Immortals. Hm.

"Stand, Jack. I'm not the one who made you immortal," I growled at the thought. Bad Wolf is bad indeed. He stood quickly, looking confused.

"Then who-"

" _Bad Wolf,_ " I snarled, before calming myself down by killing a few million people with a hurricane. Much better. Humans, always so reliable.

The Doctor gasped, and I turn on him, striding up to him. " _What do you know of the Bad Wolf,_ " I hissed, mood having darkened once more. This was taking too long, I needed to get back to creating my finest invention yet. It currently has no translation into Human, and describing it would ruin the surprise. Which I'm disappointed in. Create better and more words you imbeciles.

"The Doctor knows. Where is he, by the way? I thought this was his TARDIS." Jack said, looking at the Doctor, Donna, then me. I shrugged.

"I erased him from existence. Or rather, I will. Right after he comes into contact with Bad Wolf, I should think. Also the TARDIS belongs to me now." I state, ignoring Jack's heartbroken face. Humans and their bonding. Jeez. "In other words, his face changed. He's right there," I continued, pointing to the Doctor.

Later, earlier in the Doctor's Timeline, episode the impossible planet/satan's pit

"YOU BELONG TO _ME!_ NOW SHUT UP AND ACT LIKE IT!" I yelled, overcome with rage as I glared hatefully at my creation. The Doctor froze, eyes widening as he looked at me. The devil before us froze, and I sneered, a snap of my fingers creating a body for the mind of him.

"Master, please, help me-" The body was quickly covered in ruins, only to get slapped so hard that they flew into a wall.

"If you _think_ for _one moment_ that I'd help a pathetic crybaby such as you, you're wrong. You _disgust_ me, Devil." I snapped, anger so potent that I knew that others for light years around would feel and fear it.

"He's… He's bowing to you?" The Doctor asked, and I rolled my eyes.

"You didn't believe me then, but as soon as what you call a fake devil- which, no, that's his _name_ \- bows to me you are all "hey! I'm in awe and might believe you, because you summoning and creating stuff before my very own eyes isn't good enough evidence" nooooooo~" I whined, frowning at him.


	2. Rex's Standards

"Will you please stop flirting with the enemy, Rex?" The Doctor asked, and she shrugged.

"Don't blame me for the sexiness of your enemies, Doctor." She replied casually, earning a glare from the man himself.

"Sexiness? That's a _Dalek!_ " He said, incredulous. She grinned slyly at him.

"Says the man in love with a blue box. Leave me to flirt with my standard's highest level, and you can go flirt with your TARDIS later, how does that sound?" Rex said, shutting him up. Rose looked at Rex, confused.

"Your standard's highest level is a _Dalek_?" She asked, and Rex frowned at her.

"Well, I'm so damned unattractive that human-looking humanoids usually just ignore me, so pepper pots, potatoes, gaseous beings, that stuff kinda _has_ to be my highest standard, or I'll be unnecessarily disappointed." Rex explained, winking at the Dalek's old-man leader, Davros. She clearly saw him roll his eyes, and she pouted.

"Damn, do I have to lower my standards even more? Um. I wonder if one of the ones from Raxacoricofallapatorius would be interested?" Rex mused, snickering at the Doctor's and Rose's disgusted faces.

"I reached into the dirt and made new life. I am the God of all Daleks!" Davros said, and Rex had to bite her tongue not to say anything more. She hadn't been _flirting_ , just insulting in a perverse way. Daleks were yelling and repeating "Worship him!"

"They're insane. Hiding in silence for hundreds of years, that's enough to drive anyone mad. But it's worse than that. Driven mad by your own flesh. The stink of humanity. You hate your own existence. And that makes them more deadly than ever. We're going.


	3. Mental Trap

Their grasping emotions and responsibilities and hopes and demands suddenly lost their grip and I took off at a stumbling run. I rushed forward, into the awaiting arms of peace and death. I stumbled and tripped just before reaching their awaiting comfort and slammed back into reality, head getting scrambled and eyes blurring as everything went dark. I had been in a car crash. I had been _about to die._ What stopped me? What kept me from the arms of peace?

" _Karma,_ " winds whispered among the grounds, to me. Karma? What did I do? I felt consciousness try and redeem itself, and I shoved it as hard as I could away from me. No, _no_. Others no longer expected anything from me, I was _free! Don't do this to me!_ I was in a constant battle with consciousness, trying to keep it as far away from me as possible.

No. I refused.

Suddenly, a man appeared in the blank place I was in, looking at me battling with my own mind. I fought my consciousness off once more, focussing on the man that was intruding upon my empty being.

"You need to wake up now," He said, sounding stern. An avatar of me appeared to speak to him.

"No, I don't. Just _let me die_ ," the avatar pleaded, sounding more annoyed and inconvenienced than sad.

"What? No! No. I'm here to wake you up, and trust me, I have all the time in the _universe_ to do it," He promised, determined. My avatar made a face at him.

"Nah, you have a few decades, maybe less. I don't know how long I've been fighting consciousness, but I can deal." My avatar makes a rude gesture and the man rolled his eyes, exasperated.

"You've been unconscious, with me, for a few days." He answered, and my entire being gaped at him. It had felt like an eternity, and I had been tiring of fighting wakefulness off recently. I couldn't react besides in shock for a good few moments before recovering.

"No, go fuck yourself and leave me alone," My avatar snapped, going to walk further into the depths of my conscious, putting me deeper into sleep. The man stopped my avatar, somehow, and I stared, irritated at the man.

"Really? At least be mature!" He snarked, and my avatar nodded wisely.

"Ah, okay. Fellow associate of my conscious, may I ask of thee to go and diddle the twiddle off with discretion elsewhere?" My avatar said wisely. Sarcastically. In a mature manner.

"Fellow as- diddl- _what?_ " He asked, utterly incredulous. I felt confusion, before shoving the emotion away and fighting the consciousness once more. My avatar dissipated into the depths of my conscious and the man was once more alone.

"Wait! No! Come back," He whined, calling out. He sighed heavily, looking around the blank area, "Your mind is different. It's… it's dark, where's all the memories? The emotions are hanging around, I can feel them, but where is the random jumbled mess of a human mind?" The man commented casually. When consciousness left, my avatar appeared, panting.

"I deleted them. I kept the knowledge but the memories are all gone. I planned on dying and hoped on it, so I let my memories fade and burnt them, metaphorically. I now know things, but I have no idea how I know them, why I know them, or where the knowledge even came from," My avatar answered, panting fading as the mental exertion wore off slightly.

"Why would you delete your own memories?" He asked, bewildered. My avatar stared at him, shocked into a blank state.

"I feel hatred towards what I lived, and I don't even remember it. It was boring, repetitious, and extremely dull. A bit like shakespeare?" My avatar said, slowing down at that last bit. It sounded like something I _should_ say, as if it were a reference that I no longer understood.

"Why was that last sentence a question?"

"Why are you asking a lot of questions?" My avatar shot back, uncomfortable in the knowledge that I just made a reference that I _felt_ the love of, but _didn't remember_.

"You're uncomfortable, why are you uncomfortable?" He asked, ignoring the avatar's last words.

"Why are you in my mind?" My avatar asked instead of answering. The man looked around, confusion blasting off of him in waves.

"I… Need to wake you up. You need to wake up, that's why I'm here." He murmured, looking as if he were thinking. "You said you knew but didn't remember, do you know who I am?"

At that question, I gazed over him. I scanned him, observed his appearance and recalling his voice from moments before. His voice echoes around.

"Who I am? Who am I? Come on, you got this, you!" His voice echoes, an undertone of my own whispering it under his accent.

"I am, I am, I'm the Doctor, and I'm here to save you," His voice said, sounding happy and dramatic. The man whose voice was echoing separate from him gaped at the sound of his own voice.

"That… that- how did you do that? To have such accuracy in my accent, and able to change the words you've heard…" He trailed off as his voice echoed once more.

"That is- that is _physically_ impossible! - _Allons-y! -_ I'm the Doctor -" And the voice shifted, turning older and gruffer. Less… the accent that the man had and more… something else.

"I just need to remember-" the voice changed again, turning more the man's accent and younger, way younger.

"And then everything will unravel! Come on, you have to _remember_."

Images of the same man, the man standing in my mind, flooded the blank area, many different voices and many different creatures and images and memories floated around, but only of the man called the Doctor and things related to him. A faded version of my avatar appeared, and began to speak.

"These memories are the only ones I, as in the me before the memory wipe, wanted to keep. They will be the first, and the _only_ memories that are able to be recovered. Good luck, amnesic me." And then the faded avatar vanished. They reappeared, "Oh, and a few songs and melodies. Outrunning Karma, Tainted Love, and any unlyrical pieces I've ever heard. And… any D-W songs." And then my mind was a bare library, a single blue book on the massive shelves while dramatic music played in the background.

My avatar looked around, and I filled a shelf with all of my knowledge, organizing it by title and coloring the books whatever color I felt suited them. Only a single shelf, in the massive library. The blue book was moved to a pedestal in the center of the maze-esque library. Then a large poster was put up, the man standing in awe at the moment was in both pictures, in different outfits. One was _him_ , the man, the other was _different_ , insane, and named Barty Crouch Jr. I was confused, but it was a solid meme, that I knew.


	4. Three's a Team

**This was my idea for the beginning of Loyalty of Hope, but it inevitably fell out.**

I tap "Total", grinning at the number. "Oh, 50.62? Not a bad year, not a bad year at all. I mean, for most people it was terrible with the war and all, but I'm not most people. I'm an NPC and I just respawn after awhile," I mutter, more to myself than my customer.

The customer frowns at me, shaking his head. "I think you mean 5162, in 5062 there was no war. Not on Earth anyway." The man stated in a British accent. A northern british accent, I think.

"Oh! Of course, how could I forget that?" I slap my forehead, shaking it, "5162! Yeah. Okay. Your remaining total is 19.12- ooh, that was a _bad_ year, that." I mutter, once more to myself. Just before the war, and everything generally sucked.

"They thought I was a witch just because I could scale a building! Seriously, _bad_ year for me." I muttered, and the man looked at me curiously.

"What's a time traveller like you doing here?" He asked, and I shrugged, scowling as I handed over his change

I logged out. I was done for the day. I shrugged off my vest, "Oh, this and that. Changing history for the worse, stepping on butterflies, making paradoxes, etcetera." I whispered, "Nothing much. I'm just stuck here for a while," I reply louder.

It seemed he heard both things I said, because next thing I know he's the one scowling at me. "If you try to do anything, I'll have to stop you." He threatened.

I grinned at him. Oh, how I enjoyed pretending, but this man was the first one to pretend along with me. I gave him a once over. Leather jacket, big ears, grey-blue eyes, sexiness and confidence in his every step. My grin faltered. He was serious, but that's not what I was frowning on. "I'm just a non-player character, sir." I say as he follows me to the machine so I can clock out. "I can't do much of anything if I tried. Though I contemplated mass genocide more than once. I figured that I'd just spread more dogma around and let them do it themselves." I shrugged, and left the building, him still walking with me.

"Non-player character? Like in the video games you humans are so fond of?" He asked, and I slowed to a stop.

"Well, whatever you want to call it. A background character, an NPC, an unimportant being in an ocean of slightly important beings." I replied, looking around for my dad. He was picking me up, and he'd leave if I wasn't there. I'm 20 minutes late, so I presume he's left already. I'm proven right when I see that he's nowhere to be found. Ouch, I've been abandoned.

"Why do you think that?" He asked, looking genuinely curious. As if he actually cared. I frowned at him, scrunching my eyebrows as I look at his expression. He _dare_ care for me?

"Leaving?" A coworker asked as they walked towards the building. I nodded at them, grinning.

"Maybe. I got left behind, so I might just stall in the break room for a few hours before calling for a cab. When did you start?" I asked, turning away from the caring _and hot_ stranger. Well, hot enough for me.

"I start in a few minutes. They have me working 'till four," the coworker answered, and I grimaced.

"Ooh, I give my condolences. Ten at night to four in the morning? That's… Oh, you'll be so bored." I replied. They shrugged and walked away. I sighed heavily, looking up into the sky.

"Fuck life. Okay, now." I said, letting my mask crack for just that moment before distracting myself. I glanced at the stranger, confused. "You're still here?" I asked politely. I may be off of work, but he could still complain to my higher ups.

"You didn't answer my question." He said, as if that's all the reason he needed to stay. I stared at him. For quite a while, actually. I was thinking. He never once looked away from my dead stare that I tend to give people when I'm focused on something. I must've been staring at him for five-plus minutes, and he didn't once interrupt my thought process.

I slowly started speaking again. "You, sir." I start so, so slowly, "Are an enigma. I'll give you that." I replied. I still didn't answer him, I couldn't. It's like trying to explain how to blink. It just _doesn't need explaining_ , it's obvious, it's a _natural thing_ that just _is_.

"I'm the Doctor. What's your name?" He asked out of the blue. I was about to reply when a blue box caught my eye.

"Why is there a random police box from the 50's, from _Britain_ , doing here?" I asked, incredulous. I walked up to it, entirely too confused. "How has no one noticed it? What the hell? This is ' _Murica! The_ America! United States, too! We'd be too patriotic to ever - seriously, what the _fuck."_ I glanced at the man, the _Doctor_ , as he walked up. "I mean, uh, I don't work there. Yeah." I saved myself. _Not._

"I'm surprised you noticed it. I'm surprised you knew what it was, honestly." He said, and I shrugged.

"I read through a lot of history so that I can pretend to have visited the years we spoke of. Of course, I just make stuff up for the future. I don't even - I _didn't_ even like history until I got this job, to be honest." I replied. "But now… History is _amazing_ ," I breathe.

"What about space?" The Doctor asked. I glanced back at him, a bitter smile on my face.

"Wishing upon the stars is something I do often. To visit other worlds, to experience beautiful things, to just _live_ each day as an adventure. Space is cool, I guess. It just… It has _so much_ promise, and us humans don't even get to visit it until I'm long gone," I muttered bitterly. The Doctor glanced at me.

"So you aren't an actual time traveller? You haven't been to alien planets?" He asked, and I stared at him. I shifted to be able to look at him, hand on the curious blue box, as we spoke.

"Nah. I haven't really done much with my life so far," I replied. I then went back to the blue box, walking around it and running my hand alongside the wooden planks. Around, I went, arriving at the now-open doors. I peered inside, blinking as I walked all the way in. The Doctor was there, and I looked around.

"Where do you want to start? I've heard it all," He said, and I hummed. I enjoyed the appearance, it was grand and homely.

"It's… Uh, what's the word, dimensionally transcendental. It transcends dimensional possibilities, and um… She's a beautiful ship. Almost sexy, if I were into modes of transportation. And- it could be a homely environment. Like you could keep your heart in here and it'd be safe forever." I replied.

He's heard it all, so I wanted to at least say it with _some_ intellect. I wonder how many people have said that, I wondered. Probably most of them, seeing as I'm just an NPC. I run my fingers along the interior, marvelling at the sheer awesomeness radiating off of this place.

"Okay, I lied. I _haven't_ heard that." He said, and I glanced at him, confused. I let it go, deciding to focus on one thing.

"Which species are you- er, race, I mean. Which galaxy? Planet?" I asked. There was no way he was human. I remembered his comment about humans and Earth. I listened to him with extreme focus, after all.

"I'm just the Doctor." He replied, and I stared. I tried understanding.

"Where are you from?" I asked, quieter. This was a sensitive question, I knew.

"I'm from all over," he responded, and I could see him raising his shields. I stared at him, and this time he looked away in seconds. I knew that tone. It hurt to think of his home place. But _why_?

"Uh, hm." I hesitate, and he looks back at me. I look away. I could practically feel how pained he was. How evasive he'd be over it if I didn't finish this now. "I uh, may not be the best person in existence, and I may not know where you're from, what it's called, or anything really, but…" I sighed heavily. I shook my head. My heart hurt, but I couldn't help him. Not unless I knew one thing. "Do you have anyone, Doctor?" I asked, looking at him. I immediately knew he didn't. I sighed even heavier.

"Oh. Your planet, whatever and wherever it is, was, whatever, is gone. Or you have no more connections to it. I- I'm sorry." I muttered, blinking back tears for this man. This man I'd just met, yeah, but I tried understanding him, and it _hurt_.

"I don't want your pity, if you're just going to pity me get out of my TARDIS." He snapped, and I tried stopping the tears. I truly did. I groaned, closing my eyes and rubbing at them.

"I don't give out pity, Doctor. Only my attempts to understand. And it _hurts,_ understanding this. You're _alone_ ," I whispered, and then I straightened. No, I won't allow that. I felt that once, and never want anyone else to feel that way.

" _Fuck that!"_ I snarled, surprising the Doctor if his look was anything to go on. I scowled at him. "Fuck you being alone. I _understand_ that, but being alone and _lonely?_ _NO!_ " I hiss, "Fuck it. I'm staying by your side forever, because no one deserves to feel, I'm sure, 20 million times worse than I do just by _thinking_ about having nothing! I promise you, Doctor," I say, eyes glimmering with tears and determination.

"If it takes me ripping apart entire _multiverses and dimensions,_ I'll never leave your side unless you want me to." I promised. And, for once in my entirely unimportant life, I entirely meant it with every atom in my being. He gaped at me, and I tried calming down.

I was just tired, I told myself. I knew, though, that in the morning, I'd still have promised my life to this stranger. I'd still stay until he inevitably threw me away when someone else came along.

I was just tired, I agreed. I was tired of feeling others pain and not helping. I was tired of trying to understand _everything_ and hurting myself without at least helping another person. I was tired, and so my entire being screamed _NO MORE!_ And this man, this stranger, saw this. I tried conveying how serious I was through my eyes, and he didn't stop gaping at me. I eventually calmed down enough to realize what I just did. I slouch again, looking away.

"Sorry, I'm just… I understand how you feel, on a smaller scale, and I just don't want anyone else to feel this way. I uh, understand if you don't want to hang out with me my entire life," I muttered, already feeling the pain from his rejection. I couldn't look up for a good while, tears still falling from the outburst I had. It hurt, understanding this. It always did hurt to understand something too much. I hated understanding, but I hated not understanding more. I also hated seeing others in pain, but… He didn't even look like he was in pain.

I just yelled at an alien stranger for some unseen pain that I imagined was there. More tears fell, and I let them. I couldn't stop them, I knew. And wiping them away would just ruin my eyes if I did it too often. I coughed, looking away in embarrassment. Looking away from the floor, to the ceiling. I closed my eyes, clenching my jaw as I begged the tears to stop.

I knew what rejection felt like, I knew what hurt felt like, I knew what loneliness and being alone felt like, I _understood_ love, I knew it. I knew a lot of emotions. Depression, sorrow, love, happiness, bitterness, saltiness, boredom, hatred. I knew them. I understood them in a way most wouldn't, immersing myself in them because I wanted to understand people, and I wanted to help.

I never did, though. I never took that step, always too afraid of rejection. Too afraid of the immense pain that would be put upon my heart. I was usually sick, had fever, headache, etc. Not because my immune system was weak - _seriously, I tried swallowing poisonous pills once and damn that poison was freaking taken care of -_ but because of my worry and hurt and understanding. Too stressed because I cared too much and was rejected once too many.

I felt the pain of everyone who I've ever seen cry, I felt the guilt that came with not helping them because I was too scared, I felt the bitter sorrow that crept up on you when you saw others looking happy, I felt the bitterness of seeing others be loved when you weren't, and I never wanted anyone to feel that way, so I gave my loyalty completely to the people I cared for, hurting every night as I knew they'd never care for me as much as I did them.

So I just stood there, letting my tears for this man fall as I gave him my entire heart, expecting nothing in return, just because I _thought_ he was lonely. I didn't even have any proof! I sighed miserably, regretting telling him that he had my complete loyalty in the three minutes we've known each other. I was just tired, I weakly replied, but I knew. I knew that I was overreacting. I knew that I was just tired and lonely and wanting someone to accept me. I knew that I was just giving someone else what I hoped that I'd receive one day, even as I knew it'd never happen. I groaned in embarrassment, finally wiping away the tears as I looked at the Doctor's leather jacket.

"Can you just forget I said that, please? I'm just tired, and- and… So done." I begged, and I heard the audible snap of his jaw.

"Do you give your entire life to any stranger you meet that seems lonely?" He asked, and I flinched. I looked down, staring at my well-loved and worn shoes.

"... I wish I could, but I only have one life to give. I've tried, once or twice, to people who knew loneliness more than I did, but, well… Yeah, I was just kinda abandoned." I replied, shrugging. I tried acting like it was something I did every day.

"How many people have you offered your entire life to?" He asked, and I shrugged.

"Verbally? One. Mentally? Er, they all kind of left… They're all just living their lives and forgetting that I exist." I muttered, as quietly as I could. I scuffed my shoe against the panelling. It hurt, but it was true. I didn't exist in their eyes any more. I was just a school friend. A passing entertainment. Oh, if they knew, I'd be shoved away faster than ever before.

"I presume you mean your family and friends, when you say they," He said quietly. I sighed heavily.

"I never tried giving anything to my family. They all made it clear I wasn't wanted," I ran a hand through my hair, staring at this stranger that I just gave my being to, "I gave my everything to, two? Three? People. Friends. They left, though, so it's okay. I can give you what's left. Sorry for not being able to give you more," I say miserably. He probably thought me doing this was unimportant. I slowly release the part connected to him, face going blank as another piece of my soul is hidden behind the coldest of steels. Distinctly separated into four different parts. The remaining fourth was flickering, I knew.

"... Don't," He said, and I glanced up, confused.

"What?" I asked, voice normal.

"I accept it. I'll take your promise of forever," He replied, voice dark. I stared at him, heart hurting. I swallowed, nodding.

"Okay," I whispered, just waiting to wake up from this amazing dream. No one wanted me for forever, especially not a _stranger_. So I waited, and waited. My hope grew.

"So, I just cried the rest of my existence into exhaustion. Any chance of a nice nap and then some adventure to get our minds off the hurt?" I suggested, letting the hope straighten my shoulders and raise my head. I was hopeful that I'd be able to help this man, and not get rejected.

"A nap? Don't humans need more than that to work properly?" The Doctor asked, and I chuckled.

"A nice 30-minute nap will make me feel better, and then adrenaline and pure awesome- which, seeing as all you've shown me _is_ pure awesome - will do the rest." I replied happily. I was too happy that someone accepted my help to tell him that I'd never be able to get to sleep if I knew it'd take 8 or more hours for me to wake up. That's just wasting time when I can get to know the man I promised my forever to.

"The TARDIS will set up a room for you, I'll show you it after we decide on a place and time to go." The Doctor said. I nodded.

"Okay! I heard some rumours about moving plastic in London, 2005. I'm sure we could check it out? See if there's any basis to it?" I immediately suggest. I had looked up history, and the many alien invasions that _totally_ didn't happen. Jeez, the conspiracy theorists have just gotten more and more insane. Though, I thought, if someone like the Doctor exists, then it wouldn't be hard to believe that Cybermen and Sontarans and a space-Titanic might exist. With greatness comes evil, after all. Or was it where greatness goes, evil follows it? I dunno, I just made it up, but it seems true enough.

The Doctor grinned at me, and I grinned back, "I like you, Mae," He said, and I pouted as I looked down at my work outfit, name tag hanging from it. I hid my name for a reason. I grinned back at him anyways.

"Thanks, I like you too, Doctor." I murmured, and he lead me to a nice room. It was small and comfortable. Barely fit a bed and a table, with a small closet full of dark colors. There was a distinct absence of purples and yellows. The Doctor frowned at the room.

"Sorry, the TARDIS usually gives my companions a nice room vaguely fitted to their tastes, she must not like you for some reason," He said, and I shook my head, grinning at the small space.

"This is amazing, I love it." I said, and he looked at me. I grinned at his look, the one that I often got by others. The "you're extremely weird" look.

"You like the room? It's tiny!" He exclaimed, and I screwed my brow in confusion.

"Er, yeah? So? I like small dark spaces, oddly enough. And I don't just _like_ the room, it's _exactly_ what I was hoping for! It's perfect!" I grinned, bouncing. The walls were black with some silver swirls adorning the walls, making it seem even better, and the bed wasn't big enough for me to feel like I should be sharing it. If I ever wanted to reach out, I'd be able to touch the walls, and the clothes in the closet were all t-shirts, sweatshirts, and jeans with long randomly decorated socks in the drawer. It was perfect. No more than five long paces around the entire room. I adored the room, and I said so multiple times.

"Oh my god if the TARDIS could understand me and be hugged I'd be hugging the life out of her, this is _fucking perfect_." I stated, grin unable to leave my face. The Doctor chuckled at my enthusiasm.

"I'm glad you like it. Usually my companions want lots of space and maybe even a mini-apartment, but you seem to enjoy having this room more than they've ever appreciated their rooms." He stated, and I scrunch my nose.

"If the TARDIS gives them something they wanted, even vaguely like you said the TARDIS usually gave, why _wouldn't_ they be appreciative?" I muttered, sneer in place at the thought of those ungrateful assholes.

"If you got, say, this room except bigger, and less decorated with blank walls, would you-"

"Yeah. I'd be honoured that anyone bothered to create a room even vaguely based upon what I'd have wanted." I interrupted. I nodded, pulling out my electronic and fob watch. I placed the fob watch back in my pocket, setting my electronic watch to go off in 25 minutes. "Well, I'll head to bed, then maybe take a shower and then we can head out and check those rumours out." I say, wondering if that was okay. The Doctor nodded, and we said our goodnights.

I startle awake, reaching out for _anything_ and gripping on to the wall for support as I stand up, stumbling off the bed. The lights snap on, blinding me for a moment as I stumble towards the closet and grab some clothes. Black t-shirt, dark red sweatshirt, black pants, penguin socks, and my ratted red and black shoes.

I stumbled out of the room and venture into another one closest to my door. It was a nice bathroom and I quick got in, the cold blast that warmed immediately letting me fully wake up. When I walked back into my room to drop off the clothes I had been wearing my watch just started beeping. I hummed, feeling fully awake. Oh well. That dream just _sucked._ There were shrieking things and I was staring down a red-eyed silhouette. A normal nightmare, but that didn't make it any less sucky.

"You slept for ten minutes and you look like you slept for eight hours," A voice called, and I glanced over.

"Yeah, the longer I sleep the more exhausted I am. It only truly takes about an hour of non-REM sleep to actually recharge a human, the rest actually is your subconscious dreaming and draining your energy that way, and my dreams always take too much energy," I replied, and we walked to the console room. I'm glad that the dream only lasted a few seconds, I've been getting better at waking myself up from dreams.

"That's not true," the Doctor said, and I shrugged.

"'S how it works for me, Doc."

We walked, and I found out that TARDIS stood for Time and Relative Dimensions in Space, that it doesn't actually like flying, but dematerializing and rematerializing, and that _she_ was, in fact, sentient. I grinned at the Doctor when I found that out.

"Excellent, now I won't just be talking to thin air when I speak to your girl," I said, genuinely enthused. _This was the best_. The Doctor grinned back at me and we reached the console room. He set the coordinates, trying to explain to me how to set time coordinates on the TARDIS after I asked. After he had to clarify something for the seventh time, I just grinned at him.

"You're absolutely fantastic, you know that?" I said seriously, no joking in my voice even as I grinned at him. I was just a measly cashier, but even I could see brilliance. He hesitated a moment before grinning back at me.

"We're here," He said after we were shaken to the floor. I sighed happily, hopping up and helping the Doctor up even though he didn't really need it. We both grinned at each other, before walking out of the TARDIS doors. Neither of us noticed our hands were entwined until we tried going around different sides of the pole. I stared at the offending pole. How dare it stop me in my tracks. We just released hands and continued, both of us shoving our hands into our pockets.

"So, your sonic probe-" I started, only to be interrupted with an indignant 'it's a screwdriver!', "So, your sonic device," I relented, "it does things from sound waves, right?" I asked as we walked towards "Hendrik's". The people around payed us no attention. I just looked like a woman with her dad. Or a girl with her boyfriend. Whichever.

"Yeah, why?" He asked, and I hummed. My eyebrows furrowed.

"Then it should work on both deadlocked _and_ wooden items, since those things don't just _negate_ sound," I said reasonably, "Have you just messed up in fine-tuning the sonic, or does Beauty just not want to put in the extra effort, if she's the one that makes it?" The Doctor looked at me, confused.

"I never thought of that. Yeah, it should work… Beauty?" He trailed off, and I decided to continue.

"Yeah, the TARDIS. I named her Beauty. But, since it's sonic, meaning sound, does that mean that in outer space where there's no air for the sound waves to move through, the sonic just… _wood_ n't work?" I asked, making a small pun in the meantime. The Doctor glanced at me, hopefully catching my brilliant pun, and shrugged.

"I didn't think of that either." He admitted. I nodded, deep in thought about his sonic and TARDIS. Such possibilities… I blinked into reality when we were all of a sudden taking the lift into a basement.

"I ah, should really pay more attention," I murmured. The Doctor glanced at me, amused.

"Yeah, you should. How long have you been thinking?" He asked and I just shrugged. It didn't really matter, and so we continued. He filled me in on the creatures we encountered at first.

Autons, life-sized plastic dummies that were animated by the Nestene Consciousness, an extraterrestrial, disembodied central intelligence which first arrived on Earth in hollow plastic meteorites, according to what the Doctor said on them.

Autons concealed deadly weapons within their hands, which can kill or vaporize their targets. They're usually just mannequins, but sometimes they can be realistic enough to fool a simple-minded ape, or a stupid human, as the Doctor called my species. I was slightly insulted, but I understood.

We both snuck around, just in time, too. Some blond chick was about to be chopped dead. The Doctor grabbed her hand.

"Run." He said, and I grinned as I held his other hand while running. Oops, I knew how difficult it was to run without naturally moving your arms. Sadly I was too fast to make him to the Naruto run, and we ran side-by-side, dragging the blond behind us.

"Fuck you!" I muttered, kicking the arm off the Auton as it sticks its arm between the elevator doors that we barely managed to get into and close in time to escape.

"Language." The Doctor reprimanded, and I looked at him, incredulous.

"You pulled his arm off."

"You didn't scold me yesterday!" I said, shocked. The Doctor rolled his eyes.

"You mean an hour ago?"

"To me an hour ago was _yesterday_ , so shush up." I said, gaining a slight british accent before clearing my throat and going back to my mid-northern American accent. Basically, around Canada but not quite touching it. Stupid rubbish British telly making me slowly turn more and more British. Not quite there, I still call cookies cookies and fries fries. Blasphemous, calling fries chips and cookies biscuits, how dare thine insult meh like this?

"Can you both stop bickering like a married couple and listen?" the blond asked, and we both simultaneously recalled her speaking at some point in time.

"Technically I kicked his arm off, and it's _plastic_ , don't worry." I replied after staring blankly at her for a moment. She had stated that I had pulled off the Autons arm. _As if_ , I mentally scoffed. I was above tugging weakly at an arm when I could just smash my foot into it and break it off way easier. I think I tugged a vastly unused muscle, though, so maybe I should've just body slammed it, I mused.

"Very clever. Nice trick! Who were they then, students? Is this a student thing or what?" the blond asked, and I couldn't help my response.

"What the fuck?" I quietly whispered. Why the hell would they be students? Where'd that even _come_ from?

"Lan. Gu. Age," the Doctor warned, "Why would they be students?" He then asked, just as confused.

"I don't know," She intelligently responded. I nodded solemnly.

"Then why the _fuck_ would you suggest they were students if _you don't even know why they'd be students?_ " I asked, entirely confused. I wasn't _trying_ to be rude, I really wasn't!

"I- Well- 'Cos to get that many people dressed up and acting silly, they've got to be students," She replied and I mouthed an "oh".

"That makes sense. Well done." The Doctor replied.

"Yeah, I- that _actually_ makes sense. Color me surprised," I muttered, gaining odd looks from both of them.

"Thanks, I guess." she replied, sounding annoyed.

"Well, it may make sense, but-" I started.

"They're not students," The Doctor finished for me.

"Whoever they are, when Wilson finds them, he's going to find the police," the blond snapped, now looking annoyed too.

"Who the-"

"Language!" The Doctor calls over my swear.

"-is Wilson? Hey! Don't intentionally talk over my swears!" I whine. The Doctor raises an eyebrow and I pout, skulking.

"Chief Electrician." the blond replied simply.

"Wilson's dead," the Doctor states back, just as simply.

The elevator doors open, and the Doctor and I step out together, the blond following soon after. I glanced at the blond. She looked kinda young. Older than me, but still young. Plus, my eyes and wisdom gives me a few years. I'm already getting grey hair, did you know? No, you didn't, but now you do 'cuz I just told you. So yeah.

"That's not funny, that's sick!" the blond fulminated, getting ignored.

"Hold on, mind your eyes." The Doctor instructed, and I listened, rolling my eyes when the blond chick made a sound of surprise when the lift sparked, the Doctor having soniced the lift.

"You know, there are things that your sonic can do that are totally irrational and unreasonable for controlling mere sound frequencies," I mutter, vexed at the impossible sonic probe.

"Who are you, then? Who's that lot down there? I said, who are they?" The blond demanded, and I groaned loudly.

"Jeez, it's like my IQ is being lowered, except I _already asked those questions in a more intelligent manner_ ," I groaned out, still vexed about the sonic, "Look, those things are living plastic, okay? Being controlled by a relay device on the roof, you with me so far?"

"Stop being so… so…"

"Condescending? Sorry, I'm just... irritated at the magical pegasus before us mere horses," I sighed out, scowling at myself. I understood where she was coming from, yeah, didn't mean I had to like it. I sighed heavily, rubbing my eyes. I needed to calm down and let go of my _irrational_ hatred of blonds. The Doctor stepped in, walking towards the exit, and the roof.

"Did you just make the connection between me and a pegasus? Oh, right! They're made of plastic. Living plastic creatures. They're being controlled by a relay device in the roof, which would be a great big problem if I didn't have this," he said, shaking a small bomb at the blond, "So, we're going to go up there and blow them up, and we might well die in the process, but don't worry about us," he said, having lead the blond out of the exit, "No, you go home. Go on. Go and have your lovely beans on toast. Don't tell anyone about this, because if you do, you'll get them killed," he warned finally, closing the door. I blinked as he rushed off.

"Beans on toast? Wait, Doctor! We forgot to ask her name!" I called, and he slowly jogged back, an odd look on his face as he looked at me.

"You were snapping at her the entire time and now you want to know her name?" He asked, looking curious. I shrugged.

"She caught me off guard, is all. I actually kinda like her," I grin sheepishly. He looked at me, shaking his head.

"Funny way of showing it," he opened the door, "I'm the Doctor and this is Mae, what's your name?" I snickered at the words. He gave me a confused look, and the blond turned back towards us.

"Rose," She answered quietly. I beamed at her.

"Brilliant name! Excellent meeting you," I say in lieu of an apology.

"Nice to meet you, Rose," The Doctor said, tone still managing to sound nicer than my American tone. Of course, that's because I was an American. Rudeness is born and bred into me by ' _Murican_ patriotism. Which I didn't have, I actually preferred Great Britain, but eh.

"Now _run for your life!"_ Both the Doctor and I said in an excited unison. We grinned at each other, running up the stairs after the door was closed.

Soon enough, we were back in the TARDIS. We stared at each other.

"So, it looks like we already have a team dynamic going on here," I said casually, smirking at him. He nodded, before spinning into action.

I watched fondly as he excitedly twirled around Beauty. I just knew that I'd never regret giving forever to this amazing man, even though so far all we've done is find Autons and blow up a building.

"I latched onto the signal of something, maybe we could track it and use it to find the main source." The Doctor suggested. I hummed.

"That's the more fun option, yeah." I agreed. The Doctor stopped abruptly when he realized what I said.

"More _fun_ option?" He asked and I nodded.

"Yeah, it's kinda obvious where the Nestene Consciousness is transmitting from here in London, but it'd be a dull ending. Let's do it the more fun way," I recommended. He looked at me for a moment before nodding. We silently track down the signal. I watch amused as the Doctor messed with the cat flap. I open the door with a bit of a jiggle, and jump back when the door opened to show Rose, the Doctor popping up too. I glanced at the Doctor and he glanced at me, sharing a "uh oh we got caught" look, and we both went back to looking at Rose.

"What're you doing here?" The Doctor asked. I looked at him blankly. Wasn't that obvious, or did he just think that people randomly broke into houses regularly?

"I live here," Rose says.

"Well what do you do that for?" The Doctor asked. I nodded, confused as well. What did she live there for?

"Because I do. I'm only at home because some people blew up my job," She said in that teenage way that all teenagers know instinctively how to do.

"Right, blame all your problems on others, real mature," I muttered jokingly. It obviously was our fault, so I wouldn't genuinely comment on that.

"I must have got the wrong signal. You're not plastic, are you? No, bonehead. Bye, then," He said, about to walk away but I stop him.

"Didn't Rose take the plastic arm? Maybe that's it?" I whispered, and the Doctor looked like he was about to reply when we both are pulled into Rose's flat.

"You two. Inside. Now." She ordered, pulling us forcefully into the flat. We both stand around when an elder lady's voice called out.

"Who is it?"

"It's about last night. They're part of the inquiry. Give us ten minutes." Rose lied, walking further into the flat. We stand in Rose's mum's doorway, looking around, distracted. We had things to be doing.

"She deserves compensation," Rose's mother says, and I wander off. I continue listening to the conversation, popping into view when Jackie implicates something romantic.

I entwine my fingers with his, grinning sharply at Rose's mother. "Nope," I say, pulling the Doctor into the living area. I release his hand as soon as we're out of Rose's mum's view. No way is my friend getting with some random woman.

I didn't think about how my actions could be viewed as jealousy, and was confused when the Doctor gave me a look. Bewildered. Utterly.

"Don't mind the mess. Do you want a coffee?" Rose called, and we both shrugged.

"Might as well, thanks. Just milk." The Doctor replied.

"Thanks, I'll take mine plain." I answered. Both the Doctor and I ignore Rose as we look around. The Doctor looks at the copy of Heat on the coffee table.

"That won't last, he's gay and she's an alien," He comments, and I shrug.

"Odd, but not an impossible feat," I muttered. I glanced at the mirror, seeing myself. "Ooh, good outfit. Makes my pale as fuck skin stand out." The Doctor flicks through a paperback.

"Hmm. Sad ending." He muttered, and I scoffed.

"There's no way you just read through the entire thing." I muttered, and he grinned at me before going back to looking around.

"Rose Tyler," The Doctor reads aloud. The Doctor sees his reflection in a mirror, and behaves as if he's seeing himself for the first time.

"Ah, could've been worse. Look at the ears," he criticized, and I smacked him gently on the shoulder. He glanced at my amused smile.

"I'll ask about your behaviour later, but don't be so harsh, you're rather good-looking, Doc." I said, again getting that look. I look away, confused. The Doctor tries to shuffle a pack of cards while I look around, behind couches and stuff.

"Luck be a lady," he sings, and I snicker, only to start choking as a plastic hand wraps around my throat. The pack of cards goes flying, and the Doctor notices my predicament, me calmly and silently trying to get the damned hand off. "Maybe not," he mutters, pulling out his sonic but having the hand attack him instead. I catch my breath as he makes choking noises. I glare at the hand, preparing to weakly tug on it. What? Not like I could kick it away again. I don't have _nearly_ the hand-eye coordination to do that.

"Fucker, come'ere." I muttered darkly. _No one attacked my friend._

Rose walked in just as I got a firm grip, tugging with all my cashier-might. It worked. She was talking, but we both were a bit preoccupied as it went back to me. I dodged, but then it attacked Rose. I groaned in exasperation. What the hell! Both the Doctor and I rushed forward, me struggling to get it off of Rose and the Doctor fumbling his sonic probe like a professional football player on crack.

Eventually we got it deactivated, and I glared at the damned menace. Stupid moving hands, I preferred the one from the Addams Family. Much better. Less of a choker, that one.

"It's all right. It's stopped. See? Armless." He said, joking. Rose glared.

"If only we had yelled "Expelliarmus", maybe it'd have stopped sooner," I replied, also joking. She hit both of us on the arms with the plastic arm. _Ow_ , I mentally whined.

We both then get up and run off, in no _true_ hurry, but not really wanting to stay much longer.

"Hold on a minute. You can't just go swanning off."

"Yes we can. Here we are. This is us, swanning off. See you." The Doctor replies. I stay silent, throat still extremely sore.

"But that arm was moving. It tried to kill me."

"Ten out of ten for observation." The Doctor said sarcastically.

"Good job," I added.

"You can't just walk away. That's not fair. You've got to tell me what's going on."

"No, I don't." The Doctor replied. Rose turned to me.

"Mae?" She asked and I shrugged.

"Plastic is moving. And we're tracking it down. Pretty damned obvious, but I mean, if that's what you want, I guess." I replied. Rose glared at me.

"Yeah, thanks, that helped," she snarked.

"Respect your elders, chick. I understand that all roses have thorns, but are you sure you aren't just a bush of thorns?" I retort, not missing a beat. I'm not her elder, but she doesn't exactly need to know that.

Rose rolled her eyes and turned back towards the Doctor.

"All right, then. I'll go to the police. I'll tell everyone. You said, if I did that, I'd get people killed. So, your choice. Tell me, or I'll start talking." Rose says, sounding more bratty than tough.

"Is that supposed to sound tough?" The Doctor asked, and I stayed silent. My throat still hurt, and my words honestly weren't helping it any. I just listen to the conversation.

"Sort of."

"Doesn't work."

"Who are you?"

"Told you. The Doctor." The Doctor replied. Rose once again turned to me. I glanced at her.

"Who is he?" She asked, and I grinned at her.

"It's "Doctor Who", but the millions of fans in another universe _and_ the Doctor are both unaccepting of the name so he's just known as "The Doctor". He has multiple names as well, one being known as Beta or something." I bullshit.

"Yeah, but Doctor what?"

"You had _one_ job, Rose." I'm ignored. I grinned, it turning into a grimace. Oh, maybe I should have gotten help sooner, I think something is broke in my throat. It _hurts_. Maybe Beauty has something?

"Just the Doctor."

"The Doctor."

"Hello!"

"Is that supposed to sound impressive?"

"Sort of."

"Come on, then. You can tell me. I've seen enough. Are you the police?"

"Technically, he is, but that's just because he hasn't quit or been fired yet," I replied, having looked him up on the way to Hendrik's. UNIT files were rather easy to hack into.

" _No_ , I was just passing through. I'm a long way from home." The Doctor said, emphasizing the denial.

"But what have I done wrong? How comes those plastic things keep coming after me?" Rose asked.

"Oh, suddenly the entire world revolves around you. You were just an accident. You got in the way, that's all."

"It tried to kill me."

"It was after _us_ , not you. Last night, in the shop, we were there, you blundered in, almost ruined the whole thing. This morning, we were tracking it down, it was tracking us down. The only reason it fixed on you is 'cos you've met us." The Doctor explained.

"So what you're saying is, the entire world revolves around you two."

"Sort of, yeah." He replied, and I shook my head, wincing.

"No," I started roughly, "It revolves around him, I'm more like a stray piece of garbage floating about him." I explained, not noticing the Doctor's expression as I watch Rose nod in understanding.

"So he's full of it, and you boost his already boosted ego." Rose summarized.

I grinned. "Why, obviously." I ground out, scowling as I looked away. Damned throat.

"But this plastic stuff, who else knows about it?" Rose asked.

"Just us." The Doctor replied.

"What, you two are on your own?" Rose asked.

"Better two than one," I chimed in, whispering that. Okay, maybe not _broken_ , but extremely _sore_ and _bleeding internally_.

"Yeah, what Mae said. Plus, who else is there? I mean, you lot, all you do is eat chips, go to bed, and watch telly, while all the time, underneath you, there's a war going on," The Doctor said.

"Okay. Start from the beginning. I mean, if we're going to go with the living plastic, and I don't even believe that, but if we do, how did you kill it?" Rose asked. I glanced at her, swallowing thickly. Ouch, my throat is such a cunt right now.

"The thing controlling it projects life into the arm. I cut off the signal, dead."

"So that's radio control?"

"Thought control. Are you alright?" He asked, seeing Rose looking off.

"Yeah. So, who's controlling it, then?"

"Long story." The Doctor replied, and Rose looked at me. I rolled my eyes.

"Okay, first off, _I am not the Doctor's translator_ ," I muttered, "And second, it's a long story." Okay, I was just a bit irritated. A bit.

"But what's it all for? I mean, shop window dummies, what's that about? Is someone trying to take over Britain's shops?"

"No." The Doctor said. I hollowly echoed him, lost in my own thoughts. Did the TARDIS have any ice cream in the kitchen?

"No." Rose echoed.

"It's not a price war." We all chuckled at the pun, me grinning at the fantastic man before me. He even used puns!

"They want to overthrow the human race and destroy you. Do you believe me?" The Doctor finished, seriously.

"No." Rose asked. They both looked at me, and I was extremely confused.

"What? Why're you asking _me_ if I believe you?" I muttered, offended.

"But you're still listening." The Doctor said, making Rose think and me glance at him. I hoped that was primarily towards Rose. Why would he make it seem like I didn't believe him?

"But really, though, Doctor. Tell me, who are you?" Rose asked, and the Doctor stopped. He thought for just a moment.

"Do you know like we were saying about the Earth revolving? It's like when you were a kid. The first time they tell you the world's turning and you just can't quite believe it because everything looks like it's standing still. I can feel it. The turn of the Earth," he grabbed both Rose's and my hands, "The ground beneath our feet is spinning at a thousand miles an hour, and the entire planet is hurtling round the sun at sixty seven thousand miles an hour, and I can feel it. We're falling through space, you and me, clinging to the skin of this tiny little world, and if we let go," I didn't let him let go of my hand, frowning as he made it seem like I would allow that to happen. Gravity was nothing, I'd happily destroy entire universes to keep him safe.

"That's who I am. Now, forget us, Rose Tyler. Go home," He ordered. I squeezed his hand just a bit before releasing it. We both walk towards the TARDIS. We both stop just inside the door, it closed behind us. I stared at the Doctor.

"What did you mean, before? When you looked as if you hadn't seen yourself before?" I asked, and he turned towards me, a dark look in his eyes. I don't look away, observing the darkness that he let me see. He had such weight on his shoulders, did he kill someone or something? I didn't care, I just wanted to help him, whether it was helping him destroy planets or save them. I blinked, shocked at my loyalty towards this man that I've known for a mere few hours.

"I'm a Time Lord. The… last… of them," He started, and my eyes focused on his, "The planet is gone, but it was called Gallifrey," He said roughly, and I hugged him. He tensed, before continuing.

"It was in the constellation Kasterborous. It's all gone. I killed them." He continued. I stood there, arms frozen around him. My arms tightened when I went through the information that I knew of him.

"You had your reasons, Doctor. I bet you that you did it because you couldn't find any other option. Am I right? You mentioned a war…" I trailed off as he slowly returned the hug.

"The Time Lords, they had this technology… It's sort of a way to cheat death. Except it means that I change. Entirely. New personality, new morals, new… everything." He muttered, and I scowled.

"I swear if your morals ever change too much I'll smack you hard enough to send you back into your own timeline," I muttered jokingly. He chuckled, wiping at his eyes and pulling away.

"Is that a promise?" He asked, and I grinned at him.

"Why, obviously." I said. I blinked. I said that twice now in the span of a few hours. We both grinned at each other, hiding the broken smiles that want to surface.

"Right! Where were we, finding the next signal! Or, you could just _tell_ me where it is?" He suggested and I snickered.

"Naah, if you haven't figured out the number one giant thing in London that resembles a transmitter you deserve to take the long path," I replied casually. He sulked, going and entering the coordinates. I watch intently, hoping to learn something. I don't. I grin sheepishly, looking away when he looked away. He gave me the look, but I wasn't paying attention, instead looking around some more. I wanted to memorise it, since it looked like the Doctor found someone else to hang out with. One Rose Tyler. Way more important than I.

"Right, here we are. There's a bigger signal coming from inside that restaurant." He said, following after me as I ran inside. We both went into the kitchens, me grabbing a pizza and the Doctor grabbing champagne. We both walk up to the Auton, immediately noticing the plastic being. How the hell did no one notice?

"Your champagne and pizza have arrived," I drawled with a flourish, setting the scalding pizza right on top of the Autons hand. It started melting almost immediately.

"We didn't order champagne. Where's the Doctor and Mae?" He demanded. I watched as the Doctor wandered back around, my job finished. The Auton's hand was melted to the table. Yay for that, I guess.

I must've been lost in thought a tad longer than I anticipated, because the Auton tried standing up. I snickered when he tugged at the table, his hand fused to it. The Doctor uses the chance to pull his head off, and Rose smashed the fire alarm.

"Everybody out!" She yelled, running towards the kitchen. The Auton ripped his arm off and followed, swinging wildly with his one arm.

We walked to the TARDIS, everything mostly okay.


	5. The Rogue

Her lungs ached, and she was surprised. This was new, she thought as she started glowing golden. She hadn't done this before. She was a Time Lord, but there's always a first for everything. She had gotten old. She was regenerating because of old age. Ripe old age of 500 was the Time Lord limit, apparently. That or she accidentally poisoned herself during her 500-years-old celebration and her old liver couldn't take it. The cookie dough and alcohol was worth it, in the end.

Soon, her legs and arms started getting that tingling numb feeling, the one where you feel like if you move even an inch that your limb will feel out of place. She sighed heavily. She had been stuck on Earth for a while, and she enjoyed the serenity. Having never married, she never had to be a housewife, able to afford her own place with the use of a handy sonic probe. Or, as her best friend once called it, sonic screwdriver. She chuckled at the thought, wheezing a bit as she held back what she knew to be a regeneration.

Her first regeneration, she thought fondly. She hadn't died _once_ in her five hundred year existence, and she was damned proud of it. She had only been trapped on Earth for one hundred years, so it wasn't like she was safe for her entire 500 years.

Her mind wandered back to her best friend. He was dead now. They all were. Gallifrey was gone, Old Beauty was dead, Daleks were gone, and she was all alone. Or so she guessed. Her stomach twisted when she realized that she couldn't hold off her regeneration any more. She recalled her best friend, also recalling her brother's best friend. They called themselves the Doctor and the Master, and she loved both of them.

The Master and her were good friends, the only thing stopping them from becoming closer was her brother's jealousy. The Doctor and her were the best of friends, almost connected at the hip. They travelled together when the Doctor wanted to, their TARDIS's dancing around each other as they played TARDIS-tag or just following the other into a brilliant adventure. She smiled fondly, tears falling down her face as she reminisced in the good and the bad times. They were gone now, but it still hurt.

She exploded in golden light, arms snapping out as the regeneration energy forcefully regenerated her. All of the energy flew about, the almost-grown TARDIS absorbing the most of it and finally finishing, twenty years ahead of schedule.

Not even ten minutes after she regenerated, troops were kicking down her door, and she smirked at them, clad in a leather jacket that Sweetie had given her. She had a punk look to her, hair black with red streaks and in a mohawk with the sides trimmed. When she saw that, she flattened the mohawk and calmed it down enough to look more goth than punk, and she kept up the gothic punk style throughout her outfit, the only odd thing being her shoes; rainbow socks with black sandals. It perfected the outfit, in her opinion. She had silver chains, spiked bracelets, everything besides tattoos and piercings in the male punk-gothic look. Or maybe punk rock? Gothic rock? And the shoes. She went back to the situation at hand.

"Oh, hello! Oh, my voice, it sounds… Emo? Goth? No no no, it sounds… _Cheerful?_ No, sarcastic! Cheerfully sarcastic in an awesome punk-type way- oh dearie, I'm rambling. I've never rambled before! Never! Oooh, my nose feels weird. Ahem, anyway. I believe the term is "take me to your leader"?" She rambled on, a cocky smirk on her face as the tasers pointed at her fell to bits. Sonic earbuds, found them in her leather jacket. They were _sick_. She scrunched her new nose. No, not that word. Never again. Same with dearie, that's just… No

Her mind went to the one time she met the Doctor's 9th regeneration. What he claimed was his 9th regeneration, anyway. She felt like her entire being was meant to emulate and copy a mixture of him and that one chick, Missy. She was led into an office, and her eyes widened when she saw who was sitting on the other side of the desk.

"Hello! I didn't know there was a _Time Lord_ living in London! How'd you survive the Time War?" The blond prime minister asked, leaning back. She gaped at him. He was _hot_ , damn. She reached her consciousness out and brushed against a familiar mind. Her consciousness snapped back as if bitten, and she hid it away once more. She smirked, deciding to mess with her friend.

"Oh, you know me, bro. I now go by… The Rogue. Yeah, that sounds appropriate." The newly titled Rogue commented, loving the way it slipped from her lips. Oh fuck yeah, she was going to fuck shit up. She frowned a bit. She had always had that mindset. Rules were meant to be broken, after all, but… It seemed amplified. Over exaggerated. Ooh, like a shield! She loved it.

"I know you? Hm, did I like you?" He asked, and she couldn't help but grin, looking away. He stood up, in shock. The Rogue looked back slowly to see him gaping at her, slowly beginning to smile.

"No," He said, walking around and walking up to her, "Are you? There's no way! Oh, this is… This is…" The Master stuttered, and she grinned up at him.

"Wild? Wicked?" She suggested, laughing when she was picked up and spun around. Oh, she wasn't alone! That was just _wild!_

"You survived. You survived. You… Regenerated. What happened?" He demanded, setting her down and looking at her seriously. She just knew that if she said _anyone's_ name, that they'd be dead before she could blink. Which is why she looked away sheepishly.

"I was still in my first body, celebrating the beginning of my 500th year alive, and uh, mayhaveeatentoomuchcookiedoughandalcoholwhichisn'tgoodforanoldlady'skidneydon'tjudgeme." She blurted, knowing he understood what she said. He always did, when she did that. They looked each other in the eye, and both had to look away before they burst out laughing. Okay, so it was a hilarious way to "die", but she felt like it was a good death. Better than when the Master first "died". The Rogue frowned when she thought of something.

"Wait, screw what I just said, what the hell are you doing looking so young? And sexy? Why are you prime minister? I thought they have to be human…?" She asked rapid-fire. The Master grinned at her, enjoying her new personality. She had never spoken this much before. Not like she was now.

"The Doctor survived the Time War too, sadly," He began, ignoring her insulted look at his addition, "And he looked young and sexy, so I thought I'd give it a try. Oh, help me take over the world! Please? Usually you're on the Doctor's side with this, but come on! New regeneration, no Doctor in sight, and an _entire world to destroy!_ I just _know_ you want to, what was it? "Fuck shit up"? Come on! Even your title, which I like by the way, says you want to!" The Master begged, an easygoing grin on his face. Even if she denied, he knew she wouldn't stop his 'd only do that with the Doctor around, and even then she never personally stopped him. She glanced out the window, humming.

The Rogue tried her best to act serious, looking at the Master. She was going to accept, but wanted to at least pretend to be responsible. Which she never could be, even as an old lady. She died by eating too much cookie dough, yeah, not responsible at all.

"People could die, "The Master"," she saw his face drop, seeing that it was working, "I guess I'll just have to stop you this time." She said sadly. The Master looked lost for just a moment, _only_ a moment, because in the next moment she continued. "From destroying a world alone. Let's _fuck shit up,_ like the good ol' days." She said in her _newly_ American voice. At least she didn't sound southern, she sounded more like she was where Jack Harkness was from.

The Master and her both grinned at each other, knowing that these next few years were going to be _wicked_.

* * *

The Rogue was right, partially. The Doctor arrived and ruined their fun. She wasn't _mad_ about it, but she realized that for once she didn't take his side immediately. He had changed just a bit too much for her to truly believe he was the Doctor, and she knew that if she reached out her conscious to check he'd feel it. He was always a bit open with his conscious, making it both easy and hard to fool him. Easy if you were human or Time Lord with a suppressed conscious, or hidden conscious, and hard for 90% of the other species.

So she just went by her new title. She had been jokingly called the Nurse when she first went with the Doctor, and it stuck with her the entire time. Now, she was herself. She wasn't just going to follow him around anymore, she was going rogue. Like she always intended to do before the War started. Like she never got around to when she decided to run away with the Doctor.

She and the Master slowly stood up, glancing at each other. _Run_ , they both seemed to scream, and so they grabbed hands and did. She scowled at how slow the Master was, and grimaced when her favorite Ex-Time Agent caught them both. He didn't know who she was either, having known her as the Nurse as well.

"Woah, big fellas, you don't wanna miss the party! Cuffs!" Jack Harkness demanded, his beaten self grabbing two and cuffing both the Rogue and the Master, "So, what do we do with these two?"

The general consensus was to kill them, and the Rogue half-grinned, feeling kind of bad. She personally didn't torture or kill anyone, but she sure as hell didn't stop the Master from doing so either.

" _No,_ that's not the solution," The Doctor cut in, gaining stares from both of the cuffed Time Lords, "You're my responsibility from now on, the only Time Lord left in existence."

"Yeah but you can't trust him," Jack whispered, "and she's a bit iffy." The Rogue pouted at her favorite human. _Rude_.

"No. The only safe place for them is the TARDIS." He replied. Both the cuffed Time Lords glanced at each other, unamused.

"You mean you're just… Gonna… Keep us," The Master said, unimpressed. Totally just done. All of his- _their_ \- work, undone.

"Mm, if that's what I have to do," The Doctor said, determined in a sad way, "It's time to change." Both the Master and the Rogue rolled their eyes skyward, snickering at each other when they realized they mirrored the other. Like two friends getting in trouble at school, standing before the Principal. As long as they had each other they gave no shits.

"Maybe I've been wandering for too long. Now I've got someone to care for," The Doctor finished, and the Rogue groaned.

"This is so fucking cheesy, just stop and make your judgement already. No one cares for dramatics," She snapped, the Master glancing over at her.

"Both of us care about dramatics, if we're going to die, at least be honest," He stated bluntly, still just done. He wasn't a _pet._ Screw that. Then he got shot, just as the Rogue unlocked his cuffs. She worked on unlocking hers, worried as all hell.

"Just one little bullet, come on, regenerate." The Doctor pleaded, and the Master refused.

"The Master, we won't be trapped forever, come on! Just regen! Kick your ass in gear, turn into a buff or slippery chick or dude and _come on! We can escape, please,_ " The Rogue pleaded as well. The Master refused, and the Rogue accepted it, mourning over her lost friend. She knew she couldn't change his mind.

The Rogue said she wasn't mad before, at the Doctor. She wasn't. No, she couldn't be, not when her entire regeneration was created off of thoughts half focused on him and the Master, half focused on how they were dead. But they weren't, go figure. That was beside the point, though. She wasn't mad, she was just sad. Extremely sad. The Master and her had finally made that one step from good friends to excellent, I-take-priority-over-most-everything friends. Just a step below her and the Doctor's relationship, actually. So when he got shot _because the Doctor trusted humans way too much_ , she was just sad. Sad and disappointed, because she had only ever had two friends, and now one of them refused to regenerate. She cried, clutching at the Master's shirt. Just then her memory helpfully surfaced a memory of the chick called 'Missy', and she continued crying. That was a stupidly brilliant thought, and she was damned hopeful. When Missy said they were good friends, she just assumed that she meant they met sometime in her future, but _no, maybe not._

Reality slammed into her when she felt metal against her head, and she sighed heavily. She was either imprisoned or killed. How nice. How… Utterly… Fitting.

"I had eighteen months with "The Master" before your bunch came along, "The Doctor"." The Rogue slowly stood up, forgetting that the Doctor knew _her_ speech patterns by hearts. Of course he did, they were basically family. "You killed my _friend_ , because you trusted those stupid fucking _apes_ , and now you're just _letting this fucking happen?_ " She growled, not in the _best_ of moods. The Doctor gaped at her. He knew she was a Time Lord, _had_ known for quite a while, but to think she was… The Doctor stood there in shock. She looked at the person holding the gun to her head and saw Jack Harkness, eyes hardened. She sighed heavily.

"Sorry 'bout that, Cap'm. I love ya to bits, but I knew you could take it," She muttered to him, and saw his eyes widen in recognition. He also knew she'd never stop her friend's from having fun, even if it was at her own expense. As long as no one she liked died she was usually okay with it.

"Nurse?" Both the Doctor and Jack said, in shock. The Rogue scowled.

"Does it _look_ like I followed the Doctor around and helped him like a good little duckling? No," She spat, backing into a clear area of floor, "Fuck that. I'm my own person now. Sorry, "The Doctor", Cap'm, I've gone _Rogue_." She grinned, Sweetie materializing around her. She looked at the outside, and groaned. On the monitor, where _her TARDIS_ was, was a 1950's, public police call box. She turned on the speaker.

"Okay, I know what I just said coupled with this _stupid chameleon arc_ that I _will_ fix makes it seem like I'm being contradicting but _fuck you guys- especially you, Cap'm,_ and yeah." And with that, she dematerialized. To right after the Doctor left the pyre.

She watched as a Time Lady slowly picked up the Master's ring.

"Hey, Missy!" She called, grinning as she ran up and hugged the girly Master, "Next time you fucking scare me- _and lie when I don't fucking know you're the Master-_ I'm going to fucking trap you in a cell with the Doctor so you can _resonate concrete together_!" The Rogue hissed, grin trying and failing to leave her face.

Oh, she was so fucking scared for a moment, but now she _knew,_ and she fucking _adored it._ The Master- not yet known as Missy, though maybe the Rogue just started something - laughed. They then proceeded to have a "girl's night" in Rogue's TARDIS, where Rogue taught the Master, now calling herself 'Missy', how to be a girl. Missy was horrified, and looked extremely worried.

" _Please tell me that my superior Time Lord biology means I only have to wear this demonic tampon once every decade, or never!"_ She screeched, and the Rogue laughed.

"Oh, yeah, I forgot to tell you," The Rogue snickered, "It happens monthly for humans. I, personally, have made sure that I'll never have to do that ever, but since Gallifrey and all its options are gone…"

When Missy left, not wanting to run around with the monster who suggested she become a girl in her next regeneration, the Rogue finally burst out laughing. Oh, Missy _so_ was going to get her back, she thought. She had read up on it, but it was a primarily _human_ thing. Time Lords - and Ladies, she grudgingly accepted, as Missy wanted to be called - didn't have to go through that often, if at all, as far as she knew. The Rogue grinned at her beautiful TARDIS, adoring the decorations. The circular designs on the silver walls? Check. The nice futuristic control console? Check. The nice carpeted floor her TARDIS always had and will always have? Check. The bars for gripping onto when she let the Doctor fly her TARDIS? Check. The stabilizers and off switch for the breaks? Ch- No. Not check. She looked up at Sweetie.

" _You_ , you look up to Sexy _and_ the Doctor, don't you? You put the stabilizers on the ceiling! _And you won't let me turn off the breaks!"_ The Rogue hissed, pouting as _her_ TARDIS wheezed.

"Oh I am _so_ telling your mother when she wakes up!" She muttered, deciding to just do what she always had, before Old Beauty shut down. Find trouble and stop it. Only for her TARDIS to land with _Sexy's signature wheeze when the Doctor flies it_ in London, a few moments later. She growled, kicking the console and swearing at it up and down.

The Rogue was distracted when a red-head came bounding into her TARDIS. They both stared at each other, shocked, before the Rogue scowled again.

"I swear, if you ran in here thinking this was the Doctor's TARDIS I'm _so fucking done._ " Rogue said, sighing as she watched the red head get angry.

"Oi! I didn't know there were _two_ TARDISes!" The red head snapped, and the Rogue shook her head.

"The outside, the wheezing, and the rollercoaster ride are all just a part of the Doctor's TARDIS. My TARDIS is just copying his for some reason," she ran a hand through her hair, "Sweetie here seems to think that the Doctor and I should travel together again. She won't change back until I do, and I won't. Anyway, I'm the Rogue, what's your name?" The Rogue asked, and the red head made a face.

"Do _all_ Galibrayins title themselves? Seriously, what's wrong with a normal _name_?" The woman snapped, and the Rogue thought it over.

"True," She admitted, "No, not all. Just the three remaining Galli _frey_ ans, the last of the Time Lords. I guess I'll name myself… Um, something _human,_ how about… Alex Jones. After that one family," She muttered, nodding to herself.

"You can call me Alex! Your name?" The Rogue said, flicking some switches so that the TARDIS was invisible to everyone but Donna and her.

"Donna, Donna Noble. Where's the Doctor?"

"He'll be here soon, apparently. Donna, tell me. Any trouble brewing around these parts? Anythi-"

"Yeah, Adipose. You have any credentials to get us in?" Donna interrupted, and The Rogue stared at her. _Rude_.

"Yes. For me. Let's go, we can infiltrate them today, stay tonight to check some other things out, maybe ruin a few lives in the process. Come on," The Rogue murmured, grabbing her sonic probe and earbuds and shoving them in her pockets.

They walk into the building, both flashing ID's.

"Donna Noble and Alex Jones, Health and Safety," Donna said.

"I'm Alex, training under Donna, Health and Safety," The Rogue confirmed.

They both walked forward, talking amongst themselves. Arguing, really, but Donna was at least pretending to be scolding her for lack of proper attire on her first day in training.

The Rogue zoned out, thinking as Adipose was promoting themselves.

"The future starts here. And Britain will be thin," The boss stated, and The Rogue zoned back in at the tone. Something was going on, Donna was right. That tone… Hm. The Rogue shook her head, getting up and walking next to Donna. They ended up in a room full of cubicles, and The Rogue ducked down when the Doctor walked in.

"Donna Noble and my trainee Alex Jones, Health and Safety," Donna whispered, flashing her badge at a man. They both sat down, listening to the man's Adipose drivel. He gave both of them a golden necklace with a golden pill on it, and they both muttered their excuses to keep it.

"And I just need a list of your customers, could you print it off?" Donna said, The Rogue realizing that she was being quiet. She sighed when she realized that she was just talkative when excited. Not so new after all, her new personality. Just more sarcastic, less follower, and more cold. Good enough for her.

"I suppose so," the man muttered.

"Where's the printer?"

"Just over there, by the plant."

Donna looks over the cubicle wall, pointing briefly before ducking back down as she spoke. "Which plant, that plant?"

"Yeah, that's the one."

"Lovely." Donna replied and The Rogue peered cautiously around the cubicle to see the Doctor pop up, vanish, Donna pop up again, vanish, and the Doctor pop up. The Rogue rolled her eyes. It was like foreplay without the pleasure; it was damned irritating and she just wanted to get to the good part.

"Excuse me, everyone, if I could have your attention," the boss calls. The workers all stand up, giving her their attention. Donna and The Rogue stay ducked for a moment, since she was facing them. They popped up when she looked away, rinsed and repeated every time she looked back.

"On average, you're each selling forty Adipose packs per day. It's not enough. I want one hundred sales per person per day. And if not, you'll be replaced. Because if anyone's good in trimming the fat, it's me. Now. Back to it," the boss leaves and the workers sit down again.

"So if you could just print off that list, I'll get out of your way. Lovely. Thanks, then. See you," Donna stated, and The Rogue grinned as she took both of the papers. She noticed the Doctor stand then sit again, and snickered as Donna and her left, not before the Doctor ran into her, though. He glanced at her to apologize, and froze. The Rogue puffed her cheeks out at him and sped walked away. When she caught up with Donna she stopped her.

"Uh, Donna, I'll just- you know, let you do your thing. I'll be back like, tomorrow, okay?" The Rogue rushed out, just _knowing_ that the Doctor would run after her if she didn't disappear before he could. Donna nodded and left, muttering about how Martians never liked to do the dirty work and how she'd have a word with The Rogue later. They exchanged numbers and parted ways. Donna turned the corner just as the Doctor ran into view.

"Nurse! Wait, Nurse, please, stop!" The Doctor shouted, chasing after her.

"Fuck you that's not my title anymore!" She shouted behind her.

"Well Rogue just sounds stupid! _Stop!_ " He called back, making her flip him off the good ol' American way. She sounded American, might as well _act_ it.

"Oh, very nice!" He called, sounding insulted, "Fine then! Rogue! Stop!" He called and she laughed.

"Fuck you twice! I changed my title again!" The Rogue called back, slamming into the blue box. She bolted inside, only realizing too late that this _wasn't her TARDIS_. The Rogue tried running out only to see the Doctor running up, looking exasperated.

" _Again?_ Just stay as Nurse! Honestly, you look and act like a teenager going through her rebellious stage!" The Doctor muttered, blocking the door. Her only way out. She frowned at him, glaring.

"You, sir, are _rude._ Now, lemme out, I need to find… Oh, wow. You parked right next to my TARDIS, no wonder I was confused. Sexy probably did that on purpose, the stupid _machine_." The Rogue muttered, pushing at the Doctor's chest. He stood there, panting. While male Time Lords were stronger, the females were _way_ faster, and had an easier time escaping from things. Smarter, too. Too bad The Rogue wasn't strong enough to move the damned Time Lord.

"You're alive," He muttered, having thought he just imagined that the Rogue was the Nurse. The Rogue sighed as she was pulled into a tight hug, knowing she wouldn't be let go for a while.

"Old Beauty is dead, the Master is dead, and if you don't let go of me soon, _you'll_ be dead," The Rogue snarled, and the Doctor released her. He looked at her outfit and froze.

"Oh, wow. What are you _wearing_? Are those- you're wearing socks and sandals?"

"Says the celery man," The Rogue replied. She tried shoving past him, failing again.

"You- you just came from the year that never was, didn't you? Anyway, I have stuff to do, and _you,_ are under arrest for _aiding the Master in enslaving the human race_ ," He muttered, looking down at her. She scowled, blushing as she looked away.

Oh, no wonder the other Time Lady's she talked to before the war fawned over him. He had an allure that most Time Lords never got. A _strong_ allure. While superior, Gallifreyans still had that mating instinct that all races and species had. She had met everyone on Gallifrey, and no male had _that_ strong of an allure. The Rogue was 100% certain that Missy, who _hated him_ with a burning passion even though they were good friends, would fall into… another type of passion for him. But… She growled as she thought of how her previous regen ignored the allure so easily, even when she met the ninth regen when it was way stronger. Stupid young body with accelerated hormones.

"Jealous?" She asked, only a few seconds after the Doctor declared her under arrest. That's all he had to do. It was now physically impossible for her to leave his TARDIS until he declared her either executed or some other punishment had been said. The Rogue spun around, stalking towards Sexy's heart. Of course, she could easily rewire those settings, she had admin privileges in this TARDIS, meaning Sexy couldn't stop her unless the _owner of the TARDIS_ \- which neither of them were- gave Sexy the permission. Sentient she may be, she still had laws to abide by. The Doctor jogged after her, easily picking her up and setting her away from the console. The Rogue scowled up at him, crossing her arms and skulking.

"No," He looked away at her pointed glare, " _Yes_ , but that doesn't change anything. You still are under arrest by the rules of the sh-"

"No, I'm not. Section Time Traveller, Article V paragraph 2.8, at the way bottom, last sentence," The Rogue snapped, waiting for him to think through it.

"One can't be arrested for something you might have or will do if at that moment in time it was either erased from history and or the one is not that far into their own timeline." He muttered, gaping at her. She set him up, he realized.

"I hereby declare _me,_ under current alias the Rogue, or Alex Jones, exempt from all charges put upon me unjustly, and _arrest the man -_ oomph!" The Rogue groaned as she slowly got her bearings back. "You just _tackled me!_ " The Rogue accused.

"I can't let you arrest me, I can _not_ deal with that." The Doctor said, and The Rogue glared.

" _You_ just tackled me," She muttered, pinned under the Doctor, "You're arrested for attacking an innocent," she was interrupted momentarily, not letting that stop her, "woman." She finished, slightly out of breath. Damn, was he a good kisser. She tried moving to wipe her lips but she was still being pinned down. She glared, and he glared back.

"Unarrest me," He ordered, and she shook her head.

"Fuck no, you just _kissed me!_ That- that was my first kiss. Oh god I just kissed _you_ ," she uttered, disgusted. He rolled his eyes, glaring down at her.

"We both know you enjoyed that, Nurse. Now unarrest me before I arrest you too." He threatened, and she gaped at him as he continued, "I can speak faster than you can."

"I remove your admin privileges!"

"I arrest alias Alex Jones and remove her admin privileges!" The Doctor finished her arrest before her, and they both removed the other's admin privileges at the same time. The Rogue glared, irritated that she was impressed. She never was the fastest speaker.

They were in a standstill, a temporary truce. They were on other sides of the console room, both working to free themselves and sabotage the other. Both were confused. The other had changed a bit too much for their liking. Or… Were they the ones who changed too much? They were _best friends_ , but even _they_ never got into arguments this big. Or physically trapped the other. Now they both were rehacking into the TARDIS mainframe, her sparking and electrocuting them in turns. Sexy could do whatever she wished, now. Both of them were glad she liked them enough not to kill them outright, and to let them try and regain admin privileges. Without them they couldn't even _try_ to release themselves _or_ the other.

"Look, I know you're jealous, but really? You arrested me out of jealousy. That's an entirely new level of jealousy, Doctor." The Rogue muttered, and the Doctor grunted. He was just as irritated as her.

"I arrested you because you decided to be a rebellious teenager, and we both know I wouldn't have-"

"Shut it, Mildred, Basil, Theta Sigma, Dr. Who, R-"

" _That's enough_. I hid my name for a reason, and you _listing it_ isn't going to help anyone in this situation!" The Doctor snapped.

"It's hidden even from _you,_ Doctor. You don't even know what it is! You haven't got a clue what it starts with." The Rogue snapped back.

"Says the one who _doesn't have a name_." He muttered, going back to sonicing a few wires. It's silent, The Rogue gaping at him. Yeah, her parents died before they could give her a name, but that meant _nothing_. She didn't have to have a name. Names were dangerous anyways.

"... We both know your punishment would be keeping me by your side for an eternity, unable to move further than 20 meters from you. Even as the Nurse I would've hated it-"

" _You still are my Nurse!"_ The Doctor snapped, finally giving up. Sexy wasn't letting him get anywhere. The Rogue didn't reply, continuing to work on releasing herself. She already returned her admin abilities over an hour ago. She was just trying to release herself without also releasing the Doctor. He could rot in his TARDIS for all she cared. The Doctor glared at her, and walked over. This was the first big argument they've had, and The Rogue was done with it. She honestly missed her best friend, but if he was going to refuse her the right to be her own person and make her own decisions then maybe he shouldn't be her friend anymore.

"Just stop it. Please, I can't take it anymore," The Doctor pleaded. To anyone on the outside, it would look like he was asking her to stop trying to release herself, but he didn't really care about that. He just wanted to feel the presence of another Time Lord in his mind again. Especially his best friend's. It hurt him to feel her protected consciousness deny the embrace of his that she used to always take.

The Rogue scowled, giving up. Sexy had just let her easily regain admin abilities. Sexy knew that The Rogue would, eventually, release both of them. Unlike the Doctor, The Rogue wasn't cruel needlessly.

"I hereby deny alias The Doctor and alias The Rogue the right of arrest, on the grounds of being unfit for duty. This releases any arrested things on board this and any other TARDIS. By the Time Lord's law of irresponsibility, mote it be or whatever you say to end a Time Lord law." With that done, The Rogue walked towards the doors, "I also give alias The Doctor and alias The Master their adminship back." She muttered, only to have 6 feet of annoying manchild blocking her way. The Rogue, still done, just socked him in the face. Stronger Time Lords may be, but she had a _punk_ regeneration an _American punk regeneration_ , and he had a _lover boy_ regeneration, a _British-Scottish lover-boy regeneration_. There was no way that she'd _not_ win in a good fist fight. Americans won over British once, they'd not lose now.

Oh, wait- She finally figured out the teenage rebellious feel! British to American in Britain? Obviously she'd become a bit more like a teenager. USA was the rebellious teenager of the world, of course she'd resemble it. She left before the Doctor woke up, her having knocked him out in one punch. Getting to her TARDIS, she flew to Donna, having put some alien tech on her to make her more easily tracked by the TARDIS.

"Oi! Donna!" She called, running up. Her TARDIS had finally given her the 'off' button for the breaks, so it now landed silently. Still shook and exploded on her, though. She couldn't wait for River to help her talk Sweetie out of it. River apparently knew the Doctor, but she just couldn't see them getting along. River was _cool_ , the Doctor was _dorky._ They'd never get along.

"Took you long enough, Martian Chick!" Donna called, breaking her out of her thoughts.

"Please, call me _anything_ but that!" The Rogue begged, following Donna to a house. Donna knocked on the door, smiling.

"Stacy Campbell?"

"Who wants to know?"

"My name's Donna, and this is trainee Alex. I represent Adipose Industries, and you're on the list of our valued customers." Donna claimed, gesturing towards Alex. Stacy looked at the punk next to Donna, worried.

"Oh, sorry about my attire. It's my first day as a trainee, I didn't know they didn't accept this attire." The Rogue grinned, seemingly innocent. They went inside.

"What do you think about the Adipose pill?" The Rogue asked, watching Stacy fix herself up.

"It's been fantastic. I've started the pills on Thursday. Five days later, I've lost eleven pounds." She replied happily.

"And no side effects or anything?" Donna inquired.

"No, I feel fantastic. It's a new lease of life. Now, what do you think about these earrings. Do they work?"

"Yeah, lovely." Donna said, smiling kindly. We both watched as she readied herself.

"You going on a date?" Donna asked, cutting into the awkward silence.

"No, I'm doing the opposite. I'm dumping him. I can do better than him now, ha." Stacy replied, walking away, "Right, I won't be long, if the taxi beeps give me a shout." The Rogue and Donna nodded.

"I won't be long," Stacy called again, further away.

"Oh, that's alright," Donna said. The Rogue stood up, nodding as Donna looked up.

"I'm going to look around, maybe visit another customer or something." The Rogue said. Donna nodded, bored already.

"Don't have fun without me," She muttered, twisting the golden pill. The Rogue shrugged. Fine by her. She just wanted some fresh air. She walked outside, standing there and enjoying the night.

A few minutes later, she saw a giggly peach thing wave, walking away. She followed it curiously, picking one up and playing with it a bit. It was adorable, and she never wanted to let it go. She followed it's brethren, not paying attention as she was lead into a van, still playing with the entertaining little blob. Unobtrusively playing with the adorable blob, she was lead to a room, grinning at the blob she decided to name Axis.

Axis and her played together, Axis jumping around and climbing her and the Rogue being amused and catching it when it fell. She honestly didn't notice she even moved when suddenly Axis was taken away from her.

"No! Axis!" She said, reaching out for the blob. It reached for her too, looking sad. The man who took Axis from her walked away, putting him with his siblings. The Rogue pouted, looking around.

"Who're you? Where am I? How'd I get here?" She asked rapid-fire, not noticing the blond sitting behind her desk. The boss lady that she had seen earlier that day.

"Do you really have no clue what you were doing?" The boss lady asked, and the Rogue shrugged, looking at Axis.

"Playing with Axis? The little adorable blob over there, second to the right?" She said, wondering if maybe she shouldn't have done something like let herself get distracted.

"You're not human, I scanned. What are you doing on Earth?" She asked, tone seeming kind but evil.

"I'm stuck here for a bit. I'll be able to leave in a few days, is my plan. As long as you don't get me in trouble I won't get you in trouble," The Rogue offered, pulling out her phone and opening up a game.

"I think that could work, I'm just here on business. I'm a nanny." The blond said, and the Rogue died in her game, looking up.

"Mm, okay. I'll just hang about, then. I'm following a rude human about, Donna. She's health and safety department." She muttered, going back to her game. And that was that. The Nanny wasn't _evil_ , no. She didn't want to kill, or need to kill, anyone who wouldn't harm her business.

The next day the Rogue and Miss Cofelia, as the Rogue found out was the boss lady's name, were playing a small game of tic-tac-toe, just waiting the day out so they could oust the reporter and stop her from ruining Miss Cofelia's plan. When Miss Cofelia went out to retrieve the girl, the Rogue stayed behind, staring out the window. She jumped up when the Doctor appeared, him quickly ducking as Miss Cofelia arrived. The Rogue groaned softly.

"Oh, you've got to be fucking me." She muttered to herself. She listened to the dialogue, wondering what the reporter cared so much about.

"What do you mean, a body?" The Rogue heard the reporter ask, tuning back in.

"I am surprised you never asked about my name. I chose it well. Foster. As in foster mother. And these are my children," Cofelia said, pulling Axis out of a drawer. The Rogue snatched Axis, hugging him.

"You're kidding me. What the hell is that?" The reporter asked. The Rogue messed about with the fat, noticing Donna and the Doctor both looking through the windows.

"Adipose. It's called an Adipose. Made out of living fat."

"But I don't understand."

"From ordinary human people." The Rogue, The Doctor, and Donna see each other. The Rogue rolled her eyes when she saw them mouth words to each other.

"Is something the matter, Rogue?" Cofelia asked, and the Rogue pointed out the two idiots grinning like loons at the other.

"Yeah, looks like my friends decided to pop in. They haven't seen each other in a while, it's best to just let them mouth it all out." The Rogue explained.

"And your… friends. Are they a danger to the Adipose?" Miss Cofelia asked. The Rogue shrugged.

"Dunno. Might be. I haven't really paid much attention to them recently." She replied. Miss Cofelia nodded, and they watched Donna and the Doctor speak back and forth. The Rogue physically laughed when they finally found out they were being watched.

"We interrupting you?" Miss Cofelia asked, irritated. The Rogue was in tears when they ran, barely able to breathe.

"Get her. You know, usually you save your friends, not laugh at them." Miss Cofelia said casually.

"Oh, they'll live. Too stubborn not to, but _that was hilarious_ ," The Rogue choked out, laughing, "I'm going to join them on this adventure, though. Sorry, don't mean to be a bother, but I'm keeping Axis too." And then she ran.

"And them!" She ordered as the Rogue dived into the machine the Doctor was in, closing the window behind her as they were soniced up. The Rogue followed the Doctor, and watched as he and Donna hugged.

"Oh my god!" Donna said, voice raising in pitch, "I don't believe it! And you still got the same suit!" Her voice then slowly changes, "Don't you _ever_ change?"

"Yeah, thanks, Donna- Not right now," The Doctor said, voice just a bit irritated. The Rogue was still chuckling away. Finally, the foreplay was over.

"And _you_! What were _you_ doing with the bad guys!" Donna said, and the Rogue shrugged.

"They aren't _bad_ , and plus! I was trying to get Axis back!" The Rogue defended, holding up the Adipose. They both gaped at her before looking down. They see a part of an arm a few floors down, and the Doctor grinned at both of them.

"Just like old times!" He said, and they ran.

"Because I thought, how do you find the Doctor? And then I just thought, look for trouble and then he'll turn up," Donna started while The Doctor soniced the door, "So I looked everywhere. You name it. UFOs, sightings, crop circles, sea monsters. I looked, I found them all. Like that stuff about the bees disappearing, I thought, I bet he's connected. Because the thing is, Doctor, I believe it all now. You opened my eyes. All those amazing things out there, I believe them all. Well, apart from that replica of the Titanic flying over Buckingham Palace on Christmas Day. I mean, that's got to be a hoax."

"What do you mean, the bees are disappearing?"

"I don't know. That's what it says on the internet. Well, on the same site, there was all these conspiracy theories about Adipose Industries and I thought, let's take a look." The Doctor soniced the cradle controls while Donna spoke.

"In you get!"

"What, in that thing?"

"Yes, in that thing."

"But if we go down in that, they'll just call us back up again."

"No, no, no, because I've locked the controls with a sonic cage. I'm the only one that can control it. Not unless she's got a sonic device of her own, which is very unlikely." The Doctor said, and the Rogue hummed. She did. Should she mention that? Hm, naaah. The Rogue decided, getting in the thing with the Doctor and Donna.

The Rogue thought about it just a bit more before changing her mind. They already were descending, might as well.

"Sonic pen," She stated.

"What?" The Doctor asked, glancing at her.

"Cofelia has a sonic pen. Same energy output as your sonic probe."

"It's a screwdriver!" The Doctor snarked, and the Rogue chuckled. Donna and the Doctor fell when the cleaner-man thing - what did the British call it? A cradle? - suddenly started freefalling. The Rogue stood standing, letting herself freefall regularly. She was floating about ten feet when the Doctor stopped the cradle, and the Rogue ended in a heap on the floor.

"Ow," she rasped, groaning as she got up.

"Hold on, hold on we can get in through the window! Can't get it open!" The Doctor says, panicked.

"Smash it then!" Donna cried, getting out a wrench. The Rogue casually gets out a laser screwdriver, like the late Master had. The window breaks to bits and the Rogue gets in just before part of the cradle falls.

"She's cutting the cable! Aaah!" Donna shrieks, and the Doctor called her name.

"Donna! Hold on!" He called, and Donna glared up at him.

"I! Am!" She yelled back, clinging to the cord. The Rogue jogged down a few levels, opening the window that Donna was hanging above. The Doctor quickly appeared next to her, and they both got a good hold on Donna.

"Is _anyone_ going to tell me what's going on?" The reporter asked.

"What are you, a journalist?" The Doctor asked, and the reporter affirmed his suspicions, "Well then make it up!" He ordered, getting a better hold on Donna.

"Donna! I've got you! I've got you-" He flinched back from her flailing limbs, getting a snicker out of the Rogue.

They got Donna in, and Rogue watched them grin at each other.

"I was right, it's always like this with you."

"Oh yes!" The Doctor agrees happily, "And off we go!" He called, and they all chased after him.

"OI!" The reporter called, and the Doctor went back while Donna and the Rogue continued on, at a slower pace.

"You knew the Doctor was here the whole time, didn't you?" Donna accused while they waited for the Doctor.

"Yup. Let's a go!" The Rogue called in a bad italian accent. The Doctor appeared and they ran again, the Rogue slowing down a bit later than her friends. They all grinned at Miss Cofelia.

"Well. We meet at last."

"Hello," Donna said.

"Nice to meet you, I'm the Doctor," the Doctor said happily.

"And I'm Donna," Donna adds.

"I'm cool!" The Rogue comments, and they all stop to stare at her for a moment. She grinned at them.

"You all know it's true, don't deny it." She said, and they all took a moment to glance at each other and shrug in agreement. Yeah, they could agree to that,

"So these are your friends? They're a bit… slippery," Cofelia said. The Rogue nodded.

"Yeah, they can be. I keep 'um around though. Have to keep an eye on them, really." The Rogue said. The Doctor spoke up.

"Yeah, and if you were to sign your real name, that would be?" He prodded, trying to get some information from her.


	6. Surety

He looked to the side, somewhere out of view of the screen, face unusually unsure.

"River! River… Uh, nice to see you! Well, I can't see you, I'm looking at a-" He cut himself off, glancing once more to the side as static ran over the screen momentarily, "Well, anyway! We should meet! General Space Board three, I think. It's a date! Oh- I mean the date, is um… Seven million years after the 21st century. Yes… So, see you then!" He grinned, smile slightly weak as the video feed cut off. Coordinates and a specific time and date appeared on the screen. The woman dubbed "River" frowned at the screen.

That was highly unusual, and worried her. Instead of blindly following as the Doctor said, she instead tracked down the signal that the video came from, teleporting there using a stolen Vortex Manipulator.

A woman with long golden hair in a militaristic grey suit paced back and forth in front of her captive. River would pay for what she has done, just as everyone else would. It had been an hour, though, and there was no sign of River whatsoever.

She turned to her captive, irritated.

"Even if it reached a version of her that was out to kill you, she'd be here! What's taking her so long?" The woman snapped, not in the mood for pacing and waiting any longer.

"Mmhph, mmnunm?" The chained man with vines and wooden cages surrounding him answered. He shook his head, floppy black hair soaked through with cold water. He had been lightly tortured during the wait, more to shut him up than to really do any damage. After a while she had just duct taped his mouth shut. The woman nodded, not really wanting to take off the duct tape.

"Right, you aren't all-knowing. Not like you're married to the woman or anything," The woman muttered angrily, tightening the barbed wire chains around him, making him flinch as he shivered. It was cold in the room, and he was drenched in cold water with only boxers on. It made sense that he was shivering.

The woman pulled out a hot dog and smeared it with peanut butter, eating it as she went back to pacing. Pregnancy cravings were the oddest of things, but she found at least twenty different food combinations that she adored that she'd never have tried otherwise.

"Mmsgy, thnnffk, mmpnsh!" The Doctor cried, louder. He elongated each word, as if he was trying to overcome the muffling powers of duct tape. The woman rolled her eyes, ripping the duct tape off of the Doctor's mouth, getting a flinch from him.

"Ahh, much better! I'm rather cold, could you get me a blanket or something?" The Doctor asked, shifting as much as he dared with the barbed wire chains wrapped around him. The woman stared blankly at him for a moment, and he nodded.

"Right, right, I'm a captive. Got it…" The Doctor trailed off awkwardly, looking around, "What if she doesn't come?" He asked, only slightly worried.

"Then I'll release you, apologize profusely, and turn myself in to the authorities." The woman sat down, rolling her eyes at the Doctor's hopeful look.

"Really?"

"No. What do you think I am? A charity service? You'll be killed. River will pay, one way or another," The pregnant woman replied, voice dark. The air turned downright frigid, and the Doctor shivered a bit more, skin turning blue.

"Ah, well, that's not good. Not good at all! River's not here, I'm cold, can I at least get a last meal?" The Doctor whined, eyes darkening in thought. He wouldn't let himself be killed by something River did. It usually was the other way around for people who knew him.

"What did River do? I'm sure we can talk this through," The Doctor tried. The woman looked at him flatly.

"She killed my husband, before he even knew he'd be a dad. Right. In. Front. Of. Me. I'm planning on repaying the favor. You don't have any regenerations left, I checked."

"What? River wouldn't do that! Well, was he a criminal like you? She wouldn't just _kill_ someone like that! The only person she ever killed was me! And don't ask, it's complicated."

"He was part of a charity service. Helped out with orphans. He didn't know I was a criminal of time, and never found out." The woman sniffled, eyes watering as she remembered the brilliance of her late husband. She didn't notice the Doctor's grimace as he glanced at her slightly protruding stomach and her various food items next to his stuff.

"Ooh. Sorry about that. Um."


	7. Running Out (of time)

She saw him, and her heart ached way too much for it to be okay. Leather jacket, dark shirt, black pants, big ears, shaved head, tough guy look. She ran up to him, gripping his jacket tightly. Christopher was too old to look this young, so reasonably she was either insane or in the past. She hoped for one, but she probably got both. Figures. The man looked back at her and she silently clutched his leather jacket. Her head was bowed, she couldn't look at him just yet, but gripping his leather jacket was enough.

"Oh, fantastic! I was just looking for someone! Can you tell me what year it is?" He asked, and she _knew_ it wasn't Chris speaking. Her grip tightened, and she scowled up at him. He looked shocked.

"Damn, you don't know either? What the hell," She muttered, releasing him after a moment's hesitation. She didn't intend to scowl at him. It was just… Pain and hurt and _hatred_. Hatred filling her entire body, and she shoved it aside.

"What human doesn't know the year?" The Doctor asked, and she froze. She just mentally referred to him as the Doctor. He was _Chris_ , and she was _insane_. _Stop hallucinating_.

"One who travels in time, one who has been touched by a Weeping Angel, one who's been pulled through the Time Vortex, one who's drunk off their ass, someone tired on New Year's, the list goes on," She muttered to herself, walking away to ask another person. She knew the Doctor - _her hallucination -_ would not say the correct year. She just needed _anyone_ to tell her the year, and she'd stop hallucinating. _It was 2019, or 2020? Maybe 2018, but either way, it would snap her out of the stupid hallucination._ Her scowl returned when her hallucination walked beside her. Couldn't it have been someone she didn't care for? The ninth Doctor was her favorite, followed closely by the actual ninth canonically revealed during the fiftieth anniversary.

"How do you know about Weeping Angels? Or the Time Vortex?" He asked, and she sighed heavily. She walked up to a random man that she didn't recognize. Perfect.

"Excuse me, I'm a bit off my arse, but what year is it?" She asked, waiting for the perfectly reasonable answer.

"Is your mate looking for the year too? It's 2005," the man replied and her world broke. Her eyes closed and she nodded.

"Right, yeah. Sorry, thanks bro." She muttered, walking away. She slowly walked towards another person, asking the same question. Her walking sped up as she went to the next person, and the next, and the next. Finally she stopped, looking towards the curious man next to her.

"Please tell me your name is Christopher Eccleston and that _I'm just hallucinating,_ " She asked, voice giving out and her whispering the last bit.

"Okay! My name is Christopher Eccleston and you're hallucinating. Better?" He asked, and she scowled at him.

"Damn it, just _once_ would you _STOP FUCKING ME OVER!_ " She yelled to the air above the street, sighing as she looked back at the Doctor. No way that _that man_ was Chris.

"Now I am. Thanks. I'm going to go kill myself now. Enjoy your year! It'll be excellent, I promise." She muttered, walking towards the London Eye. She knew there was a lake somewhere around there… She saw it in an episode of Doctor Who.

An hour has passed, and she was still walking. Still attempting to just _wake up_. She loved the Doctor, and all of his adventures, yeah, but she didn't want to _have adventures with the Doctor!_ She just wanted to cry in her room full of clothes parts of boxes and Doctor Who merchandise while rewatching the cringe-fest that the 2005 reboot first season was, with bad quality, okay acting until the fourth episode where it got better, and plenty of just pausing the episode to just _stare creepily_ at the Doctor. The Ninth Doctor. The best and the better. The most human Doctor there's been.

In her opinion, anyways. She knew that there were some intoxicated on David's sexy lover-boy Doctor who _couldn't hold himself back without a person there_ , and others in love with Matt's quirky adorableness, a few enchanted by the older Doctors - _like the Fourth_ \- and a few enamoured with the Twelfth. She never got to watch the thirteenth Doctor's season, having gained her obsession with the Ninth just before the chick aired her first episode. Sad, she was looking forward to it. Now she was in a coma having a _great_ dream that she _hated_.

She finally made it, and just didn't stop walking, about to fall straight into the water when she was stopped. She didn't bother trying to stop whoever tried. When they left she'd try again.

"Look, you obviously aren't in your time. I can take you back home, I promise, just come with me." A heavy northern accent said, and she sighed heavily. Sure. She'd _try_. She hated her house almost as much as she hated this dream, so maybe visiting her home - _never the correct sight in her dreams -_ would wake her up. Or make her realize that it wasn't a dream.

"2018, 19, or 20. United States of America." She muttered, walking with him to a familiar blue box. She gave him her address, and he took her there in October, as was her request. She gripped onto his leather jacket, and sighed as she made her decision.

"This isn't my dimension, I don't think. Come with me? I just want to check something before you leave me at a stranger's house," She uttered, and the Doctor looked at her confused. He asked questions, but her head was full of smoke and cotton. She couldn't hear or think of anything except what she was doing. She knocked, coming face to face with a familiar face. They didn't recognize her.

"Hey, I'm here to check out the house- I heard it was going up for sale? If you let me check it out, I can buy it off your hands immediately, no matter the wear and tear of it." She muttered, and her mother let her in excitedly. Her mum didn't know her, she thought dully. Hadn't she wished for that quite often? Why did it hurt so much, then? She was showed around. She met her sister's, and was told their life story as her mum told all strangers. The only one missing, was her. She stared blankly at what once was her room. At what _was_ her room, in another universe.

"Hm, it's a nice house, and I'd love to buy it, but there's a few problems. Maybe fix up the doors a bit? It just seems _off_ to me. Sorry, mu-ma'am. I'll come back in say, a week? Maybe I'm just having a bad day. Thanks, bye." She muttered, walking out, the Doctor behind her.

"Why'd you go and do that? I thought that was your address?" The Doctor asked as they walked the few blocks to his TARDIS.

"The woman that was showing us around looked so _happy,_ Doctor. She looked _so young_ ," she whispered in awe, "And the tall black one- the one with acne- she was _successful!_ She had her life all planned! She was a singer and a model! The woman looked so _proud_ ," she finished, voice breaking.

"That woman hadn't met me, Doctor. That woman was my _mum, and she was so happy and she hadn't met me."_ She whispered, noting the Doctor's grim face. He understood her, she knew. She understood him, too.

"I haven't told you my name," He finally asked, looking at me.

"TV show- I was obsessed with it in my universe. It was about this man, the Doctor, who went on adventures, usually with a companion by his side. He was a Time Lord, and he was just having fun while trying to save people whenever he ran into trouble- which was always. He had this blue box, a police box from the 50's, called the TARDIS. It was bigger on the inside. It was glimpses from another universe brushing past ours, ideas, events, and a few people made them into a show." She explained weakly, just waiting to be left behind as a nutter.

"Was the actor who played my character Christopher Eccleston, then?" The Doctor asked, and she nodded. She grinned at him.

"Way nicer man, he was. Charming, nice, easygoing. He was fantastic, too. He made the show better, in the end. Oh, I'll miss being able to stare creepily at you for hours on end, letting myself pretend that I could stop your pain," She muttered, near-silent at the end. She was insane, obsessed, and hadn't snogged the living hell out of him. She counted that as a plus, since it was better than River or Amy Pond could say. Of course, the Doctor hadn't met them yet.

"Oh, sounds like you like him more than you do me," The Doctor said, partially joking.

" _Never,"_ she spat, "He was nice, but he was an _actor_. Who knows how he really was, away from the cameras and reporters? I've never met him personally. I know you, though. Good and bad, really. Oh, but you'll hate me for that, ouch. My childhood crush, burned at the pyre," She finished sarcastically. She was saying too much, she knew. But she couldn't stop, she needed him to hate her and throw her away, because if he didn't, she knew she'd end up messing with the Doctor's timeline.

"What's your name? You look familiar," he commented, and she stopped. Oh, last time _he said that_. Two words. _Prime. Minister._ He stopped too, looking back at her pained face.

"I swear if I'm famous here- oh! _Oh,_ if I'm famous here." She muttered angrily. Just once, for everything to either _stay bad_ or _never go bad in the first place_. The thing she hated most was the Doctor's luck she had. She liked that term, she just named it that then. It was true, though. Things went bad, and they _were fixed_ , with one more person hurt and lost, one more crack on the multitude of hidden _not there_ cracks. She hated it. She just wanted to have all bad or all good, she didn't _mind_ the darkness, but _what the hell, just stop being so passive-aggressive, life._

"Why would you be famous here?" The Doctor asked, snapping her out of her thoughts. She answered without thinking.

"Because last time you asked someone if you knew them they were _the Prime Minister of Great Britain_." She muttered. She immediately winced. Ooh, that wasn't good.

"Last time? I don't recall ever…" He trailed off, an idea popping up, "Oh. A TV show. You know the future, _my_ future, don't you?" He said flatly.

"Yes. And I could save millions if I just…" She trailed off, shaking her head.

"No but seriously, what's your name?" He asked, and she hesitated. If she _was_ famous, her name would have changed.

"Ruby Rose," she lied easily. She knew that if her famous self met her, that they'd try killing each other. Not because of any "I'm the only one" stuff, but more because… Because we'd hate the other. Hoping that we'd end up dead as well. That's just how her mindset worked.

"Hm, must've been mistaken. Wouldn't your mother be the same, though?" The Doctor asked, confused. Newly dubbed not-the-anime-character Ruby Rose shook her head.

"No. Name, family, blood. None of it matters to me, because the only family I knew was adopted. White parents black children." She genuinely stopped at his confused gaze. She gaped at him.

"Woah. You really _don't_ care for domestics. Um, it doesn't matter. None of it does, just go back to London and er, enjoy finding out your next adventure." She muttered, stopping a ways away when they finally reached the TARDIS. The Doctor stopped, looking confused at her.

"You aren't going to come with?" He asked, assuming that she wanted to after all she told him. Ruby grinned at him.

"There's no place for me with you, Doctor. You have such great adventures, just… When the Bad Wolf runs, just know that you _aren't alone._ " She muttered, grin fading. The Doctor accepted it, and looked away.

"Right," He replied, and she stared at him. His gaze found hers, and he walked into his TARDIS. Right before he closed the doors, she ran up.

"Doctor," she said, breathless. She couldn't believe she was about to do this. He looked up at her, confused.

"I fucking love you, so so much. Don't think you're alone, all you have to do is visit me, okay?" She said, and he stared for a moment before nodding. She stepped back, watching as the TARDIS wheezed away. She didn't bother walking away. She knew that David's Doctor would return, pissed at her. She grinned when the TARDIS wheezed into view, grin fading when _it wasn't the 10th doctor._

"Oh, wow. I thought I knew you. Why did you come back?" She asked, and he blinked at her.

"You didn't expect me to return?" He asked, and she shook her head.

"I did, but… Not you, really. You should be with Rose, having the time of your life and healing from the war, not… Not coming back to me," Ruby said, heart clenching. Did she already mess up? Without Rose… _Everyone would die._

"Rose? Who's that? I haven't met Rose yet. I've just been travelling these past few years, alone… Without you." He stated, and she knew then and there what she should have seen coming.

"You aren't going back to London without me, are you?" She deadpanned. He grinned at her, shaking his head. She scowled up at the sky.

"You did this on purpose, I just know it. Fine. I'll play your game, and I'll freaking _beat it._ " She muttered at the author that was probably writing her in a fanfiction. She was determined, she'd beat the system. No she won't. She really, really won't. She didn't let that stop her, though. She turned back to the Doctor.

"Don't mind me, I'm just cursing probability and my own memory. Let's go, Doctor. To London." She muttered, regretting the fact that she just assumed that telling the Doctor that _she'd always be there for him_ wasn't a big deal to him. He had just lost everything! What did she expect, him to just _forget_ about her until Rose "died"? … She grinned sheepishly. Yeah, she did. Wow, she was thick.

"Not yet born in thickania, yet, but close," She muttered, and the Doctor grinned at her.

"London's a bit dull. Sounds like you think you'll be put on the backburner for some "Rose" chick. How about a trip? Anywhere, anywhen, just the two of us, you decide" The Doctor suggested, and Ruby hesitated. There was no way she could deny that request.

"You, Doctor, are impossible." She muttered, and pulled out her phone. The Doctor grinned before looking confused.

"What are you doing with that for?" He asked, sounding insulted. She had no service. She grinned, yeah, she didn't expect to. She pulled up a timer, having it warn her when 24 hours passed. She also made it so that it added to a counter. She wouldn't lose track of time, not with her time always ticking down.

"Just seeing if I could look up anything from my past world. Don't want to suggest a time, that's too cliche. But a _planet_." She lied, and the Doctor stared at her a moment.

"You want to be different." He stated, looking… sad? She couldn't tell, she was too busy looking away.

"Barcelona!" She changed the subject as smoothly as ever, which is to say, not at all. "You never got to go, not on-screen, but I've heard that the puppies have no noses…" She trailed off, looking at his stare. It wasn't sad, like she first assumed. No. It was _piercing_. She blew air into her cheeks, shrugging. Seemed to work, as next thing she knew the TARDIS was wheezing and shaking and the Doctor was grinning at her.

"Barcelona it is!" And the TARDIS lands, the Doctor grinning at her. She grinned back.

"Barcelona? Outside those doors? The planet?" Ruby asked, the Doctor nodding excitedly. Ruby glanced at the doors.

"You must think you're so impressive, Doctor." Ruby muttered, unable to resist. She grinned when she heard his comeback.

"I _am_ so impressive!" He said, highly offended.

"Says the man who relies on his sonic screwdriver and his TARDIS too much," Ruby pulled out her replica of the 9th and 10th's sonic, shaking it about as she grinned and dragged him to the doors.

"I do _not_ rely on my sonic too much!" The Doctor claimed, and Ruby snickered.

"If you say so, buddy." She replied with a soft grin, like one would when entertaining a child. The Doctor pouted at her, stopping.

"Fine then," he muttered, shoving his sonic screwdriver into her hands and taking the replica, "On this adventure, I won't use my sonic, and any time I _try_ ," he shakes the fake at her, "Won't work."

Ruby shrugged, "Yeah, sure. Just know that that replica has a chance of magically turning real if anyone is in grave danger," she agreed amicably. The Doctor frowned at her.

"Oi, I can save people without my sonic!" He claimed. Ruby looked at him, unamused.

"Yes, you can. But, see, how many times have you done that? Once? Twice? Maybe three if you're pushing it? Without the sonic and the TARDIS both? Like, once? In the future?" She replied, grinning at him while they walked. All of a sudden many weapons were pointed their way. Ruby took out her trans-temporal Sonic. Wasn't going without it, whether it actually worked or not.

"I think, _maybe_ , don't quote me on this now, but I think there _might_ have been a reason you never went to Barcelona the planet," Ruby said calmly, both the Doctor and Ruby pointing fake sonic's at the weaponry.

"Whatever the reason, it hasn't happened yet," he muttered, only to glance over at a wanted sign, "Ha! It wasn't me, this time! You're the one who's wanted here!" He said, feeling elated. Ruby glanced over and saw a wanted sign with her face on it.

"Does that mean I can lead the adventure, or are we still both going to try resonating concrete?" Ruby snarked, in a good mood. So far nothing has gone right, so that was a plus.

"Resonating concrete? When do I do that?" The Doctor asked, giving Ruby a glance as they both relaxed and put up their hands.

"Oh, yeah, you forgot about that. Huh. Quite a bit, actually. You're so used to relying on your sonic that one time you didn't even check to see if the door was unlocked." Ruby casually replied as they were lead away. They were put in a cell, told that they'd be talking to the queen soon.

"..." The Doctor stopped as Ruby tried stifling her laughter. He had just used the fake sonic on the door. He had been talking about how it was deadbolted or something while Ruby had casually flipped his sonic around in her hands.

"Doctor?" Ruby finally got out.

"Yeah?" He replied sullenly. Ruby grinned fondly at him. _I love you so much._

"I don't blame you. If I knew how to use and make sonic's I would rely heavily on them too. But, there's one _slight_ problem." The Doctor looked at Ruby, confused.

"What? What is it?" He asked, and Ruby held up her trans-temporal sonic and two others besides his.

"Fake sonic screwdrivers don't exist in this universe. The universe compensated. Too much, I'd say. I now have a vortex manipulator, a confession dial, and _four_ sonic screwdrivers." Ruby muttered, feeling overpowered. The Doctor stared at her.

"So you mean that this sonic that I'm holding actually works?" He asked, and she grinned as they traded sonics.

"Maybe. It's heavier, more metal, and feels more realistic than any plastic sonic ever could." Ruby muttered, dropping everything besides the trans-temporal sonic into her pocket. She ignored the black FOB watch already in her pocket. She was _not_ going to be part of that troupe. Nuh-uh.

"So, uh. Now that we know that the door is deadbolted or whatever, want to watch as I resonate wood?" Ruby said, grinning sheepishly. The Doctor stared at her, unamused. Neither of them were amused.

"You mean to tell me that you now have four of my sonics just lying in your pockets?" The Doctor stated, and Ruby shrugged.

"I don't think the one you carried worked. They're the exact same sonic- I made sure of it, since David's was just a tiny bit _no_. So, technically. I have three that are working." Ruby said, as if that helped. It didn't. They both stood there impatiently.

"Well, we have time," Ruby broke the silence a few hours later, causing the Doctor to look up, "Why don't you tell me the rules of the universe? Or maybe how to use a sonic device? The actual history of the universe as you know it so far?" Ruby suggested. The Doctor shrugged.

It had been two days. Ruby got irritated and stood up.

"Fine! Fine, I give in! What did you want from me, again?" Ruby called, and many aliens flooded the room, guiding the Doctor and her into a throne room.

"Hello again." The queen of Barcelona the planet said cooly.

"Whatever I did, I didn't do it yet. Anyway, what did my future-self do in the past?" Ruby asked. The Queen smirked as a man glided into the room.

"You denied my prince the right of marrying you. That is a high offence on Barcelona."

Ruby didn't even have to think before she replied, "I have this rule of marrying one man, and I'm already married to this sexy leather-clad man. Sorry, I physically can't." Ruby apologized, and the Doctor glanced at her. Them? Married?

"Why didn't you tell us that? We have been terribly rude, but may we see the proof of your bond?" The Queen asked, and Ruby edged towards the Doctor.

" _What does that mean? The proof of our bond?"_ Ruby whispered, and the Doctor scrunched his nose.

" _It means that we need to have a mental connection- it leaves this mark, it's how most psychic species marry,"_ The Doctor explained. Ruby nodded, smiling sweetly.

" _I don't suppose you'd be willing to mentally bond with a human you've been with a few days?"_ Ruby asked, not bothering to hope.

" _No. I wouldn't."_ The Doctor muttered, and Ruby nodded once again.

"Right, we can do that. In a moment. After we _run!_ " Ruby gripped the Doctor's hand and dragged him the hell out of there. She soniced the doors open and bolted towards where the Doctor and her left the TARDIS. She, obviously, was going the wrong way. The Doctor took the lead, and eventually they both collapsed into the TARDIS.

"I'm never going to step on a planet until you tell me their basic rules ever again, Doctor," Ruby gasped out, collapsing in the pilot's seat. The Doctor nodded, bounding around the TARDIS as he wheezed them into the Vortex. He then stopped and looked at her. Truly _looked_.

"A mental bond is permanent. There's no divorcing like you humans do, and you can only ever mentally bond with one person. Forever." The Doctor said, and Ruby listened. She knew all of this, having read the fanfictions. She wondered if, like in the stories, her life would be extended to match his or vise versa.


	8. One Without Wings

She collapsed against a vaguely familiar blue box. She had no clue where or when she was. No idea what age she was. She only knew she had just under three decades to prepare her body and mind to make another trip into another universe where the Unsenali couldn't get to her. If she left too early, she'd end up running into them again. If she left too late… Well, she wouldn't be able to leave at all, being dead.

She had long forgotten her name, used to what the Unsenali called her millenia after millenia. The only one to escape them time after time, it made sense that they'd have a special thing to call her, just as she had a special name to call them.

Her title? Runner. That's what she was called. Of course, they used many different languages, but it all meant the same. The one who ran. The escapist. The runner. Cowardly but alive, she called it.

Runner was exhausted, as she always was after a jump from one universe to another. Dimensions were one thing, but an entire _universe_? Absolutely tiring. She stayed as she was, leant against the blue box as she sorted through her previous memories. Had to love the perfect memory she obtained, or she'd have had no clue how this all started. How this all would end.

She was glad she could remember, and knew the only reason she could remember literal _millenia_ of memories was because of all the genetic-electric modifications she went through to give herself the ability to travel through universes.

She closed her eyes to meditate, rushing through her memories and making sure there were no gaps or blanks in her memory. Human minds were the easiest to turn into supercomputers, and that was easily doable through a complex process.

Not that she kept the body when she escaped, no. She seemed to have a nice duplicate in most dimensions and universes, which was nice. What she did was more sending electromagnetic pulses to find a mind like her own, and bring the electrical pulses already in the mind to replace it with her mind's own electrical pulses.

Basically, she did a mind-swap.

They lived in her old body, quick to be killed by the Unsenali, and she survived in theirs for a few decades before the Unsenali caught up with her. It was all possible by electrical impulses and universal magnetism. Since it was _only_ electricity being sent, well, she had her work set out for her. It was a geniuses work, having to be done by someone who _wasn't_ a genius. Luckily for Runner, she had a genius show her how to repeat the process time and time again.

She only had to keep the memory.

Runner's eyes opened when she found that her memory was fine. It'd take a week or two for the mind she now occupied to fully adjust and transform into the mighty machine it usually is, but that'd be fine. She had a few decades left before she had to worry over being caught up to, and by then she'd have made the simple but complex machine required to escape once more.

Runner paused her thought processes, wondering what the hell she was just thinking. Was she starting an inner-monologue now? Is that a thing she did? Or was she just thinking in a confusing manner because of her exhaustion?

She shook it off, taking in her surroundings. Observing the shadows. Eyeing up the people walking by. No one paid her any mind, and she took the time to watch the creatures she could no longer call her own species. They could be taken over by the Unsenali. They could be her enemies, and they never were her allies. At one point in time she tried saving them, and she got locked up and tortured because of it. Or brushed off as a madman. Best case scenario was that the humans she tried saving believed her and nuked themselves when the Unsenali arrived, before being taken over and either "zombified" or possessed.

Runner knew the difference between humans and other creatures. Knew the difference between creatures of Earth and creatures of otherworldly statuses. Intimately. And not in a good way, she was sad to say.

Runner sighed heavily as reality finally caught up to her. She checked her physical status. Athletic build, good, it'd save her some time. Good reaction speed, though that was mainly just her muscle memory in play as it had a slight almost unnoticeable delay that she'd have to work to erase. No serious injuries, nothing that would slow her down. Flexibility was poor, she'd have to work on that. Eyesight… She was wearing contacts, but they were for color and not vision purposes, which was good. Runner ran her tongue over her teeth and grimaced. Ooh, new teeth. That's weird.

She took a deep breath in, putting as much air in her lungs as possible. Runner waited, wondering how good the lungs were. A few minutes passed and Runner nodded in approval. A swimmer, good hygiene, and wonderful new taste buds.

Runner could work with this. It was better than the fat gamer she had inhabited last body. She wasted half a decade just getting the body in shape. Runner was not pleased, but she knew that she couldn't judge the original body owner's decisions. The only reason she was in shape the first time she met the Unsenali was because she put herself through the military. Then she was on her way to becoming a rich CEO, but the Unsenali came along. She didn't mind, honestly.

While she wanted to survive, to live, Runner hated the life she lived before. She could reasonably state that the Unsenali was the best thing that happened to her. The best and the worst, rolled into one fat, angst-y shadow monster.

Suddenly Runner fell backwards as the doors to the blue box opened. The girl - was she a girl? - looked up into a spacious area, two people looking down at her collapsed form.

She was still out of it from the transfer. That shouldn't have happened.

"Hello!" A northern-british accent piped up, coming from the male wearing the leather jacket. Runner stood up abruptly, face only a few inches away from the man's.

"You're familiar. You're in a spaceship. Bigger on the inside, which means you're the Doctor. This is the Doctor's universe. I'm in the same universe as the man who defeats aliens that try destroying the universe, and he does it for a living. Well, more accidentally, but he still does it. _Brilliant!_ " Runner stated, gripping the shoulders of the confused man before her. She grinned loopily at him.

"I have terrible news! Universe-destroying aliens that have no weaknesses will be here in three decades' time!" She said, giddy. Of course, she then collapsed. The Doctor had no choice but to catch the mysterious woman before him, before she rammed face-first into his chest.

Runner had not planned that. Runner also didn't plan on transferring into a body that had just come down from a drunken-drug-trip. Figured that the swimmer would be an alcoholic doing crack. It seemed too convenient that she got such an athletic body, there had to be _something_ wrong with it. Now she had a chance of dying from overdose, shock, or alcohol poisoning.

She groaned, sitting up as fast as she could before they found her hiding spot. Everything hurt, which meant that one of the "zombies" must have attacked her and managed to knock her out. Zombies.

Not the stereotypical virus-carrying dead people that was on shows, but the soulless mindless instinct-driven and overly aggressive humans that the Unsenali ripped the souls out of to create more of themselves.

Runner ignored the voice telling her to sit back down and took stock of her body and surrounding area. She was in a white area, maybe one of the possessed or maybe one of the survivors were there, and there were a lot of medical devices. She was in a med bay. A hospital. A place of healing. A place of death. Her body was sore and aching, craving something and feeling hungover. She ignored the voice trying to speak to her and patted herself down.

Why was she wearing a dress? She never wore dresses, they were inconvenient at best. She then turned her attention to the person, the man before her.

She took in the way he spoke, moved, the way he acted. Runner knew he wasn't human, and stayed on guard. She didn't know when the Unsenali would break their cover, or if they would that day. He was speaking, but she didn't understand the words. Not because they were in a different language, but more so because of the ringing in her ears.

The zombie must've gotten her good.

Runner walked towards the exit, wondering where the hell she was. She needed to leave, before anything bad could happen. Before she could be found by the monsters that slowly started to focus more and more on her the more she escaped their grasp.

A jolt went through her system and she realized she was being led back to the bed she was on before. Confused, she allowed herself to be sat down, and looked at the man before her. He was speaking. He looked familiar.

Familiar was bad. Was he one of the usual Unsenali that tried converting her? She didn't know. She couldn't remember. Not at that moment.

Runner observed the man before her, and waited until she was content that he wouldn't attack her before closing her eyes and trying to find the memories buried beneath the foggy pain and cravings. Her memory slowly returned, and she realized that she was safe.

They weren't there yet. She wasn't in danger. The man before her was an alien, but not an aggressive one.

"Hello? Can you hear me?" He asked. Runner's eyes focused, and she looked at him. She frowned. He looked rather insignificant, despite her knowing the fact that he had the potential to save both his and many more universes. Just because he was clever and had a sonic screwdriver.

All universes were doomed.

"Now I can. Sorry for collapsing on you, Doctor. And sorry for… The attitude I had. This body is new to me, and I have reason to suspect it was on drugs or drunk, most likely both, when we met." Runner stated, trying to find her logical reasoning and thought processes. They seemed to have been misplaced, for she couldn't think properly and her eyes wouldn't focus on the man she was speaking to.

"What do you mean by that?" A girl's voice pitched in, and Runner looked over to see a blond teen looking at her.

"By what? This body being new to me? I had just transferred their electric impulses and brain waves to my previous body in the other universe, and transferred mine into this body's brain. Basic mind-swap, done out of necessity for my own survival and the survival of many others." Runner explained, shrugging. The girl looked unsettled.

"What, so you just… Swapped bodies with a random person? Did they agree to that?" She asked, almost demanding an answer. Runner tilted her head, confused.

"They didn't have to. This is this universe's version of me. While yes, they were their own person, I gave them a fighting chance in the other universe. They'll still end up dead, but whether they're there or here, they'd still die in much the same way." Runner replied.

The girl's expression changed, from confused and wary to frustrated and outraged.

"You just took this woman's life away from her and you didn't even ask? And now you're just letting her die? Can't you help her in the other universe or something?" The girl demanded, not liking how Runner did things.

"No, I can't." Runner replied.

"Switch back! You can't just take someone's life away from them like that!" The girl demanded.

"... What's your name?" Runner asked, deciding to end this girl's rage before it started.

"Rose. Why?" Rose asked, still mad.

"Rose. Good name, Rose. _Rose_ , oh, I knew so many Rose's. Do you know what happened to all those other Rose's, Rose?" Runner asked, standing up and staying strong despite the pain radiating through her head.

"No."

"They died. Brutally," Runner said, walking towards Rose, "They were ripped to shreds, or changed into monsters, their bodies becoming aggressive husks. They were taken over, they were transformed, they were killed. Rose, want to know something?" Runner asked, not giving Rose a chance to answer.

"This isn't the first body I've taken over, and it won't be the last. I know you now, and in a few decade's time the Unsenali that I'm running so desperately from will arrive _here_ , and no matter where you go, _they'll find you, and they'll destroy you_." Runner snapped, Rose slowly backing away. Runner suddenly relaxed, backing away from where she was aggressing on Rose.

"Of course, luckily for you, there's another option. I come here, at the cost of _one single life_ , and warn this universe. The hero's and the fighters and the armies can take over then, hopefully find a weakness in the monsters, and _quadrillions are saved_. Imagine watching billions of worlds burn, children crying and being helpless to do anything. You would run too, wouldn't you? You'd sacrifice one life to save your own. So _shut it_." Runner shrugged, ambling out of that room and looking around the hallways.

Where the hell was the exit? Runner sighed, sitting just outside of the door. Guilt weighed heavy on her soul, knowing that the lively people she's seen so far in this universe would all be dead soon. There was no way that anyone would be able to stop the Unsenali. Runner felt the guilt at taking the many lives she's had to take to survive, and let it consume her as she stewed in her thoughts.

"That's not true! We've been to the future, and there were no- no Unsaline there. Right Doctor? Doctor?" Rose said, looking at the Doctor. The Doctor was deep in thought, and he looked at Rose, eyes burning into hers.

"No, you remember the Gelth, Rose?" The Doctor said, face serious. If what that woman said was true… The entire universe was in danger, and no one would be spared.

"But that's different! Right? Tell me it's different! There's not going to be monsters running about in three decades, there can't be!" Rose insisted, getting scared. First the woman, whose eyes held an age older than the Doctor's, and now the Doctor was agreeing with her.

"... She wasn't speaking in regular, linear time, Rose. She was speaking in subjective time. We could leave her on Earth and go on adventures all around the universe for three decades, going to the ends of time, and then they'd arrive. But for her, it'd only be until 2035 that the monsters arrived. Subjectively, everyone in the universe has thirty years starting from the moment she arrived before the monsters arrive, if she's telling the truth. All throughout time, they'd arrive." The Doctor explained. Or tried to.

"Well… what do we do? Do we just wait until they arrive and let them kill us off like- like cows? How can we stop them?" Rose asked, afraid. It's silent for a very long moment before the Doctor decides on a plan of action.

"We get more information on them from our resident expert!" He said cheerfully. They both walk out, only to stop at the sight of their target curled up against the wall lost in thoughts. Runner jumped up after a moment, feeling the eyes on her. Guarded, she looked at the two people before her. It took a moment for her to recall that they weren't enemies.

"Hey." She muttered, and they all decided to sit down and have a long conversation.

Unsenali. It stands for Unnamed Sentient Aliens. _Don't try and name them_. The moment you give them a proper name, they can find you, and teleport to your universe. U.S.A. Unsenali. Whatever you want to call them, make sure it isn't a name. It has to be an abbreviation, or slang, or rude terms. They're kind of like Vashta Nerada, or Daleks, or Cybermen. Kind of a combination of all, but worse.

Their objectives are to eradicate all life, use the life forms available to create more of themselves, and have fun in the process. They're shadowy-humanoids with claw-like appendages, and if you get close enough, the texture of their shadowy-being is blobby and similar to transparent sludge.

You can't interact with them, not physically. They're like ghosts, except they can interact with you. If they claw you, you turn into one of them, zombifying the body and having the sludge leak out of the body. They can attach to your shadow, which then makes them able to possess you. This is excellent because this means that they can't possess you at night time, or in the total dark.

So far there's been no weaknesses found. No physical, electrical, pyro, or plasma interactions, and psychic attacks only grant them access to your mind. They _are_ sentient, and you _can_ make deals with them, but most of the time the deals fall through, or the _traitorous bastards_ get shot by other survivors when the bastard's lead them to the group. You can't ask for peace. You can't ask for permanent survival. No, they make deals to keep you alive until all others are dead, and you _don't_ want to try bargaining with them.

They're intelligent, but slow. You can outrun them, but they don't seem to have any stamina. If you outrun them, you can't stop until they can't see you, until they can't find you. They can get through _anything_ , even if it's solid and opaque.

They can feel emotions, but emotional attacks don't kill them, sadly. Plus, what good can you do with it? Insult their figure? Not like you can cause them undue stress by attacking family members either.

To escape, you just have to let them toy with you. They love doing it, and it gives you time to plan an excellent and desperate escape.

Trust me when I say you don't want to try seducing them. You need to learn their mannerisms by heart, so you don't end up seducing them while they're possessing another, or so that you don't end up in a situation where they have you trailing after them like a lovesick puppy. I've seen it happen, and it only makes things worse.

They thrive on fear, but they thrive more on fake confidence. If you pretend not to be afraid, they won't stop torturing you until you show fear. It plays in with their love of toying with people.

"And that's all I can think of at the moment. Basically, run. Run as fast as you can, as long as you can, as far as you can. I've gone through many universes just to escape, and getting through dimensions is easier but it only buys you a decade at most. Depending on if they truly want to get into that dimension, it could take as little as two hours. I'd suggest not leaving the universe until they arrive, or you have a chance at running into them."


	9. Not Done Yet

**I might actually continue this, if anyone wants me to. I dunno. Might.**

She pouted up at her caretaker, begging to be taken to the school.

"Please, ma'am! I'm boyish enough and I wanna _learn!_ " She pleaded, tugging on her caretaker's arm. Her caretaker sighed, irritated.

"I knew I never should've taught you to read, you poor sap. Now you don't want to stop. You're nine, remember it, or I fear you'll surpass even the teacher's in this town," her caretaker said, shaking her head.

"Please please _please!_ I'll be good! And I'll only stay long enough to read through the library, ma'am! Promise!" She almost yelled. Almost. She ran around a person to catch up to her caretaker, having stopped to almost yell. She even dressed as a boy! Come on, she was so _bored_ being in the early 1910's.

The person she passed walked up, having been a teacher just taking a leisurely stroll.

"Excuse me, I couldn't help but notice you denying this young lad an education," The man said, glancing momentarily at the gaping child staring at him.

"Oh, no, sir. The little one is going to grow up a proper lady, she is," Her caretaker said, glaring at her. She wasn't paying attention, deep in her thoughts while still gaping at the man. "If she ever gets her head outta the clouds," She muttered, indignant over her charge. Suddenly the kid jerked into motion, going to run off.

"Easy there!" The man called, grabbing the kid before she got away, her having suddenly bolted.

"Alex! Dang that girl, always thinking or running about! I oughta send her to the asylum for a month to show her reality!" The caretaker snapped. The man looked down at the irritated child.

"Where are you running off to, Alex?" He murmured calmly, like he would to a scared pup. The kid scowled before pouting at her caretaker.

"Lemme go so I can _go!_ " Alex yelled, struggling against his grip. He picked her up and set her on his hip, much to her irritation. She glared at him while he looked at her curiously, unaffected by the death glare no child should be able to give.

"Go _where?_ Honestly, I should put you in the asylum with how odd you are, you." The caretaker snapped, scowling. Alex stuck her tongue out.

"Just _go!_ Adventures await me! Books are calling, bad guys are out there to give second chances to, good guys to blame for the deaths they couldn't prevent!" Alex forcibly said, squirming in the man's grip. He was awfully strong for being a walking twig, she thought.

"Isn't that supposed to be the other way around? Bad guys getting blamed for the deaths they caused, good guys getting second chances?" The man asked. Alex looked at the man, incredulous.

"What sorta world do you live in? Idealistically, _yes_ , but reasonably? _No,_ the bad guys get all the sympathy and the good guys get all the blame! Unless it's war, in which, yeah. Good guys, or rather, the winners of the war, get good reputation and bad guys, the losers of the war, get no sympathy and are expected to pay for it all," The child explained slowly, like he was barmy.

"You're rather intelligent, aren't you? And you'll be going on those adventures all alone? Don't you have a sidekick? All superheroes have sidekicks," He asked, thinking to all those other adventures with superheroes in them. She looked at him oddly.

"It's a hero, not a superhero, one. I'm _not_ a hero, but maybe I could count as an _anti hero_ , two. Lastly, _heroes_ don't have sidekicks! Only superheroes do! Heroes have friends, companions, stuff like that. Heroes are just normal people doing what no one else would, and saving people in the process. Anti Heroes are just normal people doing what they want or think necessary, saving people in the process. Bad guys are just normal people doing what they want or think necessary, killing or hurting people in the process," Alex explained, exasperated. Both her caretaker and her captor gaped at her. She scowled at them both.

"I don't have time for this! Just lemme go so I can go adventuring and building and fighting bad guys!" She snapped, finally loosening her arm enough to tug sharply at the man's ear. He winced, relaxing his grip enough for her to escape. She ran off, the man following her.

"Wait! Alex! Can I come along?" He called, and she stopped, glaring back at him.

"Even anti heroes need a companion to show off to, right? Let me be that companion," He pleaded, not caring that he was a grown man begging a nine year old to take him with her. He knew that if she denied him, he wouldn't be able to keep up with her. She was _fast_. He also knew that someone had to take care of the child.

"Make sure you're back by Sunday, brat!" Her caretaker called, walking off. "I'm Caretaker Elizabeth! Who're you, sir!" She called as an afterthought. Might as well know to blame when the girl inevitably dies on one of her adventures.

"I'm John Smith! I teach at the local school! Just started a few days ago, actually!" He called back, frowning at Elizabeth. Sunday was four days away, did Alex run off often? He glanced at Alex, already knowing the answer. He sighed heavily.

"Lizzie! Sunday is for losers! I'll be back Tuesday!" Alex yelled, doing a two-fingered salute at the woman who had already walked away. A book came flying through the air, smacking Alex on the face.

"Then bring the Bible and you better pray!" A faraway voice called before vanishing. Alex rubbed her face, mourning her nose. It was a solid hit, and the book almost won the battle against her nose.

"So? Might I be able to join you in your adventures?" John asked, and Alex scowled darkly at him. An expression that shouldn't be possible for a kid to do, not having enough experiences. Alex was something else, wasn't she? John smiled brightly at her. She gave him an odd look.

"You better be able to run fast, mister! I'll only be your knight in shining armour if you can keep up!" She demanded, gripping his hand and dragging him along. John was in awe of the little girl before him. Not only did she break the social normal via wearing a boy's clothing, but she ran faster than any child her age, boy or girl, should. He was barely keeping up, and she was running slower than before! Way slower. John gulped as he barely dodged a branch. Just how abnormal was this kid?

Later, he decided to answer that question with one word. Extremely. No nine year old can build a house on her own, let alone a _three story house with furniture and decorations!_ No nine year old can craft handmade books, no nine year old could forge two sharp _swords_!

John glanced around the first floor. It was rather small, comfortable enough for a grown person or two. It had a few chairs here and there, and tables crudely made full of clutter. All sized for a small child, but accommodatingly, like they were able to be adjusted for when she became a grown adult. He saw the haphazard stairs, longer and thicker than he was used to, leading up almost hidden by a door. She had told him the first floor was for her crafts, the second for her home and the third for her finished crafts.

John walked up the stairs and stared in awe. It was styled as a one-story home, except this one wasn't child-sized or childish in any way. It was almost… Modern. For the 1910's. He absently flushed a toilet in shock. She had plumbing. He walked back down the stairs to see Alex drawing out blueprints while also working on a wooden block, a crude clay knife carving intricate symbols and a piece of coal writing numbers and calculations on the parts outside of her outlines. If John had ever doubted her before, when he looked at the blueprints she was writing all of his doubts vanished.

"What the hell sort of child was she?" He muttered, not intending to say that aloud.

"A brilliant one, or maybe just a trillion year old stuck in a child's body. Whichever you decide plausible enough to believe." Alex replied absently, putting her head in her hands when the wooden block split apart. She tossed the remains with a pile of what John had assumed was just firewood, but now knew to be mess-ups. He looked closer at the pile. There was lots of wood and brick, but…

"Where's the metal? That's a pile of things you messed up, and I don't believe you _haven't_ messed up on metal before." John asked, burning with curiosity.

"Metal can be melted and reformed and reused. As can most of my other materials, but brick and wood can't be reformed, so I use the parts for small decorations and the like," Alex replied, looking like she was about to cry in a frustrated, adult-like way. She was gripping her hair and went back to muttering the calculations and wondering what she did wrong. If he were from the late 2010's, he'd say she looked like a university student.

John jumped when she suddenly stood up, rushing towards him and dragging him outside after giving him a sword and taking one for herself. She had made two, when she was irritated at wood and brick for not letting her make it what she wanted to.

"Woah there! Easy, Alex! You can't just…" John sighed heavily as he ran after the errant child. Of course she could, he thought fondly, she was Alex. The one that knew how to do plumbing, carpentry, architecture, engineering, blacksmithing, and more. That put a new perspective on the housewife stereotype, he mused, they do all the housework… He focussed again when Alex suddenly stopped.

"Oh, they're here. Why are they _always here?_ " Alex muttered, annoyed. John gaped at her, at a loss of what to do. He looked up at the sun, seeing it was almost halfway down the sky.

"Who? W-What are you talking about?" John asked, scared.

"Oh, nothing big. Just… Um. Yeah, there's no good way to put this," Alex muttered, "They're called Slabs. They're uh, made of leather. Aliens and um, witches. They're trying to kill me." She finished. John gaped at her.

"What? But, but that's impossible!" He cried, gripping his sword and Alex's hand tightly. Alex sighed, nodding.

"You're right, I agree. They're after you, too," Alex claimed, and then groaned as John dropped his sword and clung to her legs when the Slabs appeared. She picked up the sword he dropped, already used to dual wielding.

Alex casually fought off the Slabs, irritated.

"Mr. Smith, if you impede my movement for _one more moment_ I'll never take you on an adventure again! You can stay close to me, just _stop clinging to me_!" Alex finally snapped, annoyed that she couldn't speed around and slice through the Slabs.

Once he let go, she finally danced around and finished a Slab by ripping off their arm and slicing through their head.

"You ripped his arm off!" John cried after they ran away.

"Yep. Leather," She said, tossing him the arm.

"Very clever. Nice trick! Who were they then, students? Is this a student thing or what?" John asked, and Alex glanced at him, confused.

"Why would they be students?" Alex asked, scrunching her nose. How thick was he?

"I don't know."

"Well, you said it, why students?"

"Well, to get that many people dressed up and being silly, they have to be students." John offered, getting a strange sense of deja vu.

"That makes sense, well done." Alex muttered sarcastically.

"Thank you," John replied.

"They aren't students. I was being sarcastic, that was the most idiotic suggestion ever. Why would I cut the heads off of students?" Alex snapped, irritated as they walked back to her home. Glancing up at the sky, she quickly changed directions. To get the idiot home, first. Then to her own home.

"W-who, what are you?" John asked after they arrived at the place where he first ran off.

"I'm the Fugitive. Human, before you ask." Alex replied, sighing heavily. Not her first companion, but losing them, even if they'd lasted a few hours, hurt like hell.

"The Fugitive? What fugitive is _nine_?"

"A brilliant one, or maybe just a trillion year old stuck in a child's body. Whichever you decide plausible enough to believe. Not a fugitive of the law, just yet. Just _the_ Fugitive. It's like a title. Better than the Rogue, at least. That one was one of the close seconds." Alex replied absently, having been using that comeback since forever.

"Just the Fugitive?"

"Yep."

"The Fugitive?" John repeated, confused.

"Hello!" The Fugitive waved. Her hair was matted down with sweat and dirt turning to mud. His was pristine like usual. She started leaving, going back the way she came from.

"There you are, then. Have fun existing and teaching!" The Fugitive called behind her, irritated when John grabbed her shirt.

"Wait! What are you going to do now?" He asked, seeming desperate for a reason neither knew.

"Oh, this and that. Maybe go adventuring a bit, running around looking for a few things, building some more things," She replied. She hesitated a moment, looking back.

"You could always… go with me. Join me on my adventures day after day," She offered, and John thought.

"Is it always this dangerous?" John asked, both hopeful and fearful. The Fugitive immediately shook her head.

"No, not at all. Some days I spend indoors, crafting and building and enjoying stuff. Other days I go adventuring, sometimes running into bad guys. The last day is a rest day, me going to Lizzie and just hanging about before I get another idea, or catch scent of other bad guys," She explained, shrugging. He stared at her for a moment.

"Today, you didn't give those bad guys a second chance. Why?" He asked, holding his breath. The Fugitive glanced away momentarily.

"Those weren't bad guys. They were just moving bits of leather and stuff. They had no thought process, and me giving them a second chance would have killed you. Had you not been there, I'd have just let them do what they wanted to do. Take me to their leader," She muttered, trying and failing to shake off his hand. He held on just a bit tighter, afraid to lose her for some reason he wouldn't yet guess. His time with her felt more real than his entire life combined. He felt more alive next to her, even before the Slabs attacked them.

"You'd have died! They were trying to kill us!" He claimed, and his jaw clenched when he saw she didn't care. Suicidal at _nine?_ What was the orphanage like if this is what came from them? He was determined to try and keep her alive, and thus the adventures of the Fugitive and John Smith begun.

"I have work, I'm a teacher, but I'll stay with you and join you after that," He said, brusque, "and on my off days I might decide to join you as well." He released her, running a hand through his hair as she ran off silently. He couldn't tell anyone about this, they'd come to the wrong conclusions. A man and a little girl frolicking off into the forest? Right, that didn't sound odd at all. He sighed as he walked away, towards his school.

When he arrived, his maid ran over, worried.

"Where were you? Are you okay? Did they find us?" She asked rapid-fire, and John held up his arms in the universal male "calm down, lady" sign. His maid, Martha, finally slowed her questions down enough to let him reply.

"I do believe that after classes I can do as I please, yes, Martha?" He asked calmly, not to be rude, but more to be concise. "I was just taking care of a few of the orphans in town, they were running amok and the caretaker pushed one onto me." He grinned stupidly.

Now that he wasn't in fear of his heart beating out of his chest in fear, he thought that he'd love to do it again.

"Someone didn't catch your heart, did they?" Another maid asked, smiling sweetly. John frowned, looking a bit lost.

"No. No, not at all. There's just this kid… She's a very brilliant little girl," He replied, "Actually, I might just take her as my own, if she likes. Her caretaker usually ignores her."

His maid looked worried, and then her face calmed down. She smiled at him, and he noticed the odd expression added to it. Worry and… Something else, he mused.

"I was just worried for your health, sir. My apologies." The day ended soon after, making way for night time.

He was lost. In a forest. With no Fugitive around to help him. He sighed heavily. What path did the Fugitive take to lead him there? Eventually, not even an hour later, he recalled with a bit of shame, he made it. He walked up to the house.

"Hello? Alex? You around?" He called, the door locked. The Fugitive looked up from her work, pulling off her 22nd century glasses and stretching. No, this was her dull day. There would be no adventure until Sunday. Three days away. She was charting what she knew of the forest, scribbles and question marks crossed out with large "WHERE"'s over the uncharted areas.

"It's the Fugitive, D-John!" The Fugitive called out, unlocking her door. Unlocking the door John was at.

"Come in, come in. Not like you to just stand about, John. Today I'm just, er," She said, subtly covering the maps, "making things. Like bowls, books, knives, alcohol."

John was curiously looking about, walking in at her prompt. A few things caught his notice, here and there. A watch similar to his was stood on top of her book-drying rack. He froze suddenly, having just registered what she said.

"Alcohol?" He asked, spinning to stare the _nine year old_ down. She nodded eagerly.

"Ooh, yes. Alcohol. I'm currently just running it through the process again and again, until it's well and truly excellent. Age it a few decades and when I'm seventy I'll make a profit off of it. Maybe when I age to the ripe old age of old I'll drink some myself. For now, I'm just making high quality alcohol with no intentions of drinking it any time soon." She said, omitting the fact that school kids frequently bought her lesser quality alcohol. High quality for the times, but extremely low quality for what she expected from a drink. She made quite a profit off of it, and even gained enough for a nice bit of land. A few hundred acres, really. She literally owned the property her house rested upon. Which she thought was excellent.

"You shouldn't be allowed _access_ to alcohol, let along be able to _make_ it." John said, voice airy. As if his head was in the clouds.

"Mm, yeah. I'm not allowed access, I make it from scratch. I have a few vineyards and a bit of farmland only an hours' run away. About three hours if you want to walk, and two-ish hours away at the pace that you run at." The Fugitive explained. She noticed that he wasn't paying attention, staring at something she made.

It was a drawing, really. Just an idea. A hope. The Fugitive sighed at the drawing, walking up to it. Two people entwined together by branches. The branches were the words "I'd stay by your side, Death unable to do us part" over and over in impossibly small text. Impossible for her, and she never had wanted it before. " _Not in her first few eternities of existence. Until she was born here,"_ She thought. Maybe she was just an imaginative and hopeful nine year old genius. Maybe she was some trillion-year-old being that caught Death's eye and have been forced through many different universes until she wanted to leave.

"Even as a nine year old genius you still have the want to get that knight in shining armour to sweep you off your feet?" John asked quietly, and the Fugitive looked over at him.

"No, not a knight in shining armour. Just… someone. Anyone to live the rest of my entire life with. Whether it be a friend, a romantic interest, a companion…" The Fugitive muttered in reply. She ripped the paper off the wall, storming outside. The paper was flapping dramatically behind her as she sprinted towards the fire she had started.

John ran after her, trying to stop her from throwing it in the flame. He watched, pained, as it burned.

"It was beautiful," John murmured wistfully.

"It was impossible and childish," the Fugitive snapped, going back inside. The Fugitive sighed heavily as she sat back down at her desk, hands clenched tightly around the knife as she went to carving the image of a fire. She'd buy the paints to make it seem realistic later. For now she just needed to do something.

"How did a nine year old get so impossibly old views? It's not impossible-"

"Just extremely, _extremely_ improbable, and unless _you_ want to stay with me forever, and find a way to be _able_ to, then stop talking about it." She interrupted him, and went to carving. He watched her, and they spent the next hour or two in silence.

The Fugitive groaned, sitting up with a few cracks and pops as she stood and stretched. It was time to take John home.

"Let's-"

"Let me- I mean, if you want me to, that is to say, er, if you'd like, I could adopt you," He stuttered, and the Fugitive stood there. She looked at him, seeing his expression. He didn't seem the type, she thought.

"You'd gain nothing, sir," The Fugitive said, shaking her head, "Let's go, before we're running in the dark."

They walked, John feeling the pain of denial, and the Fugitive feeling the pain of existing. Neither much liked the pain they were feeling, but neither said anything to relieve them of this pain. Martha was stood at the edge of the forest, having seen John walk in _hours_ ago. She was visibly worried, and the Fugitive sighed. John, seeing Martha, didn't notice the Fugitive slip away silently.

The Fugitive wandered in town, venturing around and getting things she needed. The Fugitive ran into a few people, but neither her nor they minded much. Until she ran into her orphanage bullies. The Fugitive was _fast_ , she knew. Speed couldn't get you out of a closed circle, not if you didn't want to be noted as even more abnormal. The Fugitive knew that she wouldn't be able to do what she planned tomorrow. Even if she fought back and succeeded, she'd still be sore.

The Fugitive backed away wearily, lucky that her hidden pockets held her items and cash well. They'd never find it, even if they did pick her up and shake her around. Wearily wary, she turned and sprinted. She dodged around everyone, trying to get to the forest before they caught her. She cried out in pain when a rock hit her in the leg, slowing her down significantly. She'd have a hard time making it back to her home, she knew. It soon got dark, and the Fugitive found out that she was right. Too right.

John was woken by a commotion, and when he got decent and walked out, he saw the Matron worry over a beaten and bruised body as it was rushed to her office. The doctor was out of town for another few months, so the school's Matron would have to do unless you wanted to travel a few hours by horse to a bigger city. He walked out, seeing his maid.

"Oh, Martha! What's going on?" He asked, looking after the body. Poor sap, must've angered the wrong people around town.

"Some orphaned kid, Alex he said his name was, got beaten." Martha replied, about to continue when John ran off after the Matron. He only knew one orphan, true, but he knew that there couldn't be many orphans named Alex around the small town. His Fugitive was hurt.

He sat by her side, worried when the Matron of the place said that she didn't know when Alex would wake up.

"It's fine, Alex can rest on my bed for however long it's necessary." He claimed. John didn't know why, but he truly cared for Alex in the small time they've known each other. When she was safe in his room, he relaxed for but a moment before she woke up. The Fugitive woke up spectacularly, almost out the door before he knew what was going on. She was extremely slow, and he almost made it in time to stop her. He ran after her.

"Alex! Wait!" He called, and she barely twitched, slowly gaining more and more speed as she ran, glancing out windows and changing directions almost casually by the time she was caught. He ran up, gasping for breath. She had ran directly into Baines, for which he was grateful. Baines was one of the few that could hold the squirming child without much trouble.

"Thank you, Baines. I'll take her from here," John said, taking her directly from Baines' grip. She had been running into the library when she ran into Baines. He wondered if that was on purpose. The Fugitive finally relaxed enough to be put on John's hip. She scowled at that, glaring through black eyes at John. He flinched at the sight.

"Now, Alex, who did this to you?" He asked, wandering further into the library.

"Just orphanage bullies, sir. Nothing to worry about," The Fugitive replied flippantly, getting John to set her down with a few good gestures and tugs of his ear. She wandered around, pulling out a book on physics, as she was followed by Baines and John. The Fugitive climbed up to sit on a table, book in hand as she read through the opening paragraph. Her nose scrunched up at the simplicity of it. The Fugitive did not know physics, though, so she continued reading.

"Orphanage bullies? Is that why you're always running away from the orphanage?" John asked, intent on knowing why a nine year old thought it necessary to live on her own. She shook her head, rubbing it too. She had a headache. She had a bodyache. _Everything_ hurt. She cared more that her head hurt though. She actually _used_ that more often. Idiotic bullies, she'd show them. The Fugitive already was more successful than all of them combined, what else could she do to embarrass them? Outlive them?

The Fugitive decided to focus more on the book than the conversations going on around her. That turned out to be a mistake. She had no clue what was going on, but she was being lead to the headmaster's office, her caretaker being retrieved as well as her suspected bullies and witnesses. John never left her side, and by that she meant he was literally carrying her on his hip the entire time. For once, she didn't mind. She rather enjoyed not having to walk while reading the physics book.

Her grip tightened to an extreme grip and she looked up at the asshole trying to take her book. It was her caretaker. She scowled, holding the book to her chest and folding herself into John, who was still holding herself. The book she was holding belonged to her and her _only_ until she finished reading. If she had to use her only friend as a shield? Well, he was grown enough to protect the both of them. Neither of them would get hurt, not on her watch.

"Oh, come on Alex! You need to be a nice lady in front of the headmaster and give me the book!" The caretaker said, exasperation in her voice. The Fugitive decided that she _much_ preferred John's nice hold over the caretaker's painful grip and clung like a burr to him when the caretaker tried taking her away.

"She prefers going by the Fugitive," John said, holding his only friend closely. They both knew that they'd be friends for a good while in that moment. Neither knew the other enough, but they knew each other too well to want to let the other be taken away from them. They knew each other for two days, and both knew those two days were the best they'd had in a while.

"The _Fugitive-_ what nonsense has she gotten you into?! That girl is _unholy!_ Just set her down! I'm done! She's going to the asylum, blaming these nice boys here for something she probably _asked for_! Saying I'm unfit for duty! It's unreasonable!" The caretaker said, and the Fugitive frowned, clinging to John just that bit tighter. The Asylum. She'd be treated unwell. She'd be practically forced into insanity with their old methods. The Fugitive, reduced to madness. Reduced to nothing, and left to be abandoned.

" _She_ didn't blame anything on anyone. She just said that she had a few orphanage bullies beat her up. We found some witnesses and now here you are with those boys." Baines said, looking indignant. He had no clue why he was dragged into this, but he wasn't going to let this peasant talk to his teacher like that. He was above that. They all were above being petty. Half were rich and the other half were poor. The poor should know their place.

"That's enough." The headmaster called, and the room was silent. Almost. Three of the five boys, the three she recognized as her bullies and the other two boys she's never really payed attention to, were snickering at the caretaker, and Baines. The Fugitive finally peaked out, and saw the caretaker's attention away from her. She relaxed so she could see better. She was cold now, though.

"Now, we're here because John Smith and Jeremy Baines decided to bring up this young lad's injuries with me and tell me who were the most likely suspects for beating the child up. Now that I know the child's a young lady, and that her caretaker and bullies just left her there on the street, I have decided to take action." He said. The Fugitive was confused. What about the leader of the town? Or this area? Was there no one better for this?

"Since the leader of this area had to go to a meeting, I have been appointed temporary dispute manager until he arrives again in a few weeks," Oh, how convenient, "So what happened?"

Everyone started to speak at once besides the Fugitive. The headmaster was looking at her, and she was the only one not speaking and yelling and trying to be heard. He thought it odd, but that didn't matter.

"Silence!" He called, "I was talking to the girl," He finished. The caretaker started speaking, and shut up just as quick with a glare from the headmaster. All eyes focused on the Fugitive, and she glanced around, clutching just that bit tighter onto John. Whether she was an insane nine year old or a tired trillion year old, a room focused entirely on her _without_ her being the one in control was intimidating.

"What happened, Alex?" John said, shifting his weight. The Fugitive looked away from the headmaster's eyes.

"I said it was nothing, sir. You should have just left it as nothing," She replied clearly, heart beating faster when she was set down to face the daunting room all alone. She was scared, she admitted. Being so small, and so weak… She was unreasonably afraid. She knew this. The Fugitive gracefully hid behind Baines. Screw that, no one had to get punished, and she wasn't going to say anything when there's a group of teenage boys that would happily beat her to death if she _did_ speak. She was in no condition to be able to survive that.

The Fugitive slowly grows her balls back, and steps out from Baines legs and bowed like a boy. "I deeply apologize for this inconvenience, sir headmaster sir. I just fell down a tree I was climbing. There was no lack of care, no bullies, and my caretaker was forced to assume I ran away, since I do that quite often," The Fugitive straightened, face blank and eyes hard, "I had no clue that my offhand comment made Mr. Baines and Mr. Smith think I had bullies, and I ask of you to forgive me and them for bringing this unimportant matter to your attention." She said, not realizing that she was formally saying things that no nine year old should know how to say let alone use correctly in a sentence.

The Fugitive's balls once more vanished and she turned red, hiding behind Baines once more, clutching to his pant legs. John had walked away, so she couldn't easily hide behind _his_ legs. The Fugitive was glad she was a very small kid. The Matron arrived at that time, and the Fugitive decided that Baines didn't need circulation in his leg anyway. It wasn't her decision in the end, though, and her only shield moved away after shaking her off. The Fugitive gripped her physics book like it was her only hope of salvation. She hated the attention, and ran out of the room as fast as her pained body would allow.

The Fugitive recalled the way to the library and hid in there for a while, curled up in a dark dusty corner that no one would think to look in. She was just done with the world. One, two people? Fine. Three? Slightly uncomfortable, but still acceptable. More than five? She just couldn't. Over a hundred? Slightly better. Less personal. The Fugitive curled into the corner further, reading the physics book. It was dark by the time she finished, and no one had caught her yet. She was safe.

Sneaking around, she put the physics book back and pulled out about five different history, science, and maths books each, taking them to her little alcove. There was a lantern lit a shelf away from her spot, and the light from the lantern cut through just enough for her to see.

The Fugitive was found sleeping with an intense and heavy tome about philosophy. It was open on the third page after the actual book started. About the fifteenth page in the actual book. John sighed heavily, sitting next to her as he put his head in his hands. He didn't know she'd run off. He didn't know she hated crowds at _all_ , and then she ran with fear and embarrassment written all over her face and he felt bad, chasing after her. Baines, Latimer, and him had made up one fifth of the search team set up to find her. Matron, Martha, and Martha's maid-friend made up another. He was tired. They had went to bed late and got up early to find her.

The Fugitive woke up to find herself over a book, an exhausted teacher next to her and relieved students in front of her.

"We found her," Latimer said quietly. The Fugitive looked at him, frowning.

"You aren't going to force me to speak in front of my bullies again, are you? Had they been convicted or punished in any way, as soon as I was alone with them I'd be dead," She muttered quietly. They all were tired, the library was a quiet place, and so thus they all decided to speak in a quiet manner.

"They forced you to do that?" Latimer asked, looking at Baines. He knew that if he ever was forced to speak about his bullies… Latimer shook his head.

"Your name. What is it?" The Fugitive asked, standing up. Her book fell out of her lap, and they all unanimously jolted at the loud noise. Heavy tome, a foot or two, gravity. None of them anticipated the result, and they all were wide awake, hearts pounding.

"Latimer. Tim Latimer," Latimer replied. The Fugitive nodded.

"Beat you to death? How… brutal, and unsophisticated." Baines muttered and the Fugitive mildly wondered who 'Tom Riddle' was and why Baines reminded her of him. Sophisticated bullies, how nice.

"Yes, yes, I understand that the richer the bullies the less physical activity they do in their bullying activities. You'd know about that, right Baines?" The Fugitive muttered, only mildly surprised when she was picked up off the ground and set on a giant twig's hip. He seemed to like doing that, didn't he?

"I'm trying to help you," Baines muttered back, irritated at the over intelligent nine year old. How utterly _rude_ of her. He tried not to pout. He had come to like her in the moments he's known her, and she only thinks of him as a _rich bully_. He decided to prove her wrong. He ignored the voice in the back of his mind telling him that he barely knew her. She felt… _comfortable_. _Safe_. Like a grandma who would bake you cookies and give you presents because you were her favorite and only grandchild. _Safe._

"Thank you for that, Baines. So much help you have given to me." The Fugitive murmured, grabbing a book off of the shelf as John walked past it. She made sounds of protest when the book was pried from her grip and put back. The Fugitive went to skulking, and Baines stared at her. He had no clue why, either. She acted childish, yet gave him the comfort of an old granny. Odd.

Baines and Latimer were sent away to recollect the other teams, and John walked towards the headmasters office. When told the teams, the Fugitive shuddered. The three bullies were on one team. Had they found her, there was no way she'd have been found alive by anyone else. _Sleeping, too_. The Fugitive suddenly was much more appreciative of Baines, Latimer, and John. So much more appreciative.

"Cold?" John asked.

"All three of my bullies that were here yesterday are on one team. I shudder in fear of what would have happened had _they_ found me instead. Beaten to death doesn't sound very pleasant, I don't think," The Fugitive replied seriously, "I need to genuinely thank Baines later, and thank Latimer too. Had you guys not checked the library before the people who _know_ that I'd be in one of very few places…" The Fugitive buried her face into John's neck. She didn't like the idea of being broken and bleeding out in a place she thought safe.

"Yes, that'd be bad. I had a suspicion it was those three, but without your word I couldn't do anything. I, personally, am glad that we know the criminals who would dare harm a genius nine year old girl." The headmaster commented, and the Fugitive froze, just knowing that whatever punishment they got, they'd be back for her. She was lucky that she could just run off at any time. Which she regrettably changed her mind on. She _couldn't_ run off, because John knew where she lived.


	10. Not Done Yet (Takeouts)

He grimaced, looking at his companion that ripped open the TARDIS just to get back to him and was burning her mind with the Time energy flowing through her mind. He had to take it out, somehow, but... He was shoved aside as a stranger that wasn't there before puts her hands on the sides of Rose's head, Time energy transferring to the stranger instead. She turns around, glancing at the man who she wouldn't have thought to save had she not miscalculated her vortex manipulator's jump. He was planning on absorbing it! Seriously, how unsafe is that?

"You owe me, but I'll collect later. For now, I gotta get going before the Time Agent's catch up and imprison me." She jumped again, this time landing exactly where she wanted to be; 21st century New York. She seriously miscalculated. She shrugged, it was her second time using it, sue her. The Doctor watched in awe as time particles appeared and flew back into the TARDIS.

That woman just absorbed something that should've killed her, but she seemed fine, not even a glow in her eyes or golden sparks leaving when she breathed. Was she a...? The Doctor shoved the thought aside, picking Rose up and taking her into the TARDIS. They had many adventures to have as of yet.  
"I don't wanna go," he whispered alone in the TARDIS. He jerked as he felt the radiation leave him, healing him up right well. He spun in surprise, seeing the girl who saved him glowing golden.

"Again, you owe me, and I wouldn't have saved you had the TARDIS hadn't abducted me when I passed by." She said, stumbling a bit as the energy slowly retreats. The Doctor perked up, wanting to ask her questions before she left again.

"Wait! How did you survive the - the time energy? Are you a Time Lady?" He stuttered, stumbling over his own words. She paused from where she was fiddling with her vortex manipulator, glancing up before looking back down.

"I'm a creature of the Void, or *was*. I spent some time as a Weeping Angel too, and being a reaper wasn't really my thing, so here I am. Mostly human, part void, part avian. Time energy is like electricity, and I'm rubber. I absorb it and not much else happens. You met me, too! I was Angel Bob. You were quite funny until you erased me from existence for a while." She mutters begrudgingly, finally seeming to enter the right coordinates and pressing the button, leaving the Doctor alone and full of questions.  
She appears once more when he's about to regenerate again, and makes him look younger, his entirely new regeneration cycle put on hold until he needs to regenerate again. He looked at her, only remembering that he wanted to say one thing. "Angel Bob, you are one hell of a Fugitive. I looked you up, and you've been avoiding authorities for *millennia*. Why do you help me so often?" He asked, and she stared. She chuckled, forgetting that she was Angel Bob at one point in a now non-existent time. That had been over two thousand years ago, and she's only seen him about a thousand years ago, when she was helping him for the second time.

"Often? I've met you thrice in the millennia I've been running. Once in the beginning, once a thousand years ago, and now." She shook her head, glancing up to him. "I'm just forcing you to owe me your life so that one day I can cash in and get a huge favor done. Cya!" And she vanished, never being seen again.  
Some say she died, others that she just did too well, most that she was just a myth. Truth was, she got shot and she regenerated, and grew old as a human, a forgotten watch on her mantel place. Until Death came knocking on her door, and opened the watch for her before taking her to another dimension. She had given him good entertainment, and so many more souls, he wasn't getting rid of her any time soon. And she was reborn, into the world of another Doctor, older than time itself. She didn't mind, and got to work fucking that universe up too.

* * *

The Doctor was in 1913? Since when? She's never seen him on Earth, not in her 90-trillion year existence jumping through universes entertaining Death. Of course, four of the five universes didn't have the Doctor in it, excluding the one she was in and the one she was born in. She hadn't even been here a decade yet, so she didn't count it. Then again, she's seen him a solid four times in the last universe. Wait- if the Doctor was there... And he has a TARDIS... With a library, as all TARDIS come with...

* * *

She almost whimpered when she felt how weak she was, how easily the man behind her could snap her in half. Her opinion of him immediately dropped. How dare he make her, his elder, feel weak? He should be offering to carry her bags across the street for her!

"Where are you running off to, Alex?" He murmured calmly, like he was talking to a scared puppy. How'd he get her name given to her by the caretaker? She was outraged before she realized that her caretaker was explaining that Alex often got lost in thought and ran like the Devil were on her heels when she wasn't talking to someone or thinking. She returned to pouting at her caretaker.

"Lemme go, so I can go!" She said, struggling against the man's grip. There was no way he was the Doctor, but she wanted to check for the TARDIS just in case.

Her caretaker scowled at her. "Go *where*? Honestly, I should take you to an asylum with how odd you are."

Alex stuck her tongue out. "Just go! Adventures await me, books calling, bad guys to give second chances to, good guys to blame for the deaths they couldn't prevent!" Alex said forcibly, still squirming in the man's grip. He was awfully strong for being a twig with limbs.

"Sounds interesting, may I come along?" The man asked, and Alex froze. What if she *did* find the TARDIS? Then the man who *wasn't* the Doctor might get the attention of anyone or thing who was dangerous enough for the Doctor to hide from... Alex scowled up at the smiling man.

"You better be able to run fast, mister! I can't be your knight in shining armor if you're slow." She demanded, gripping his hand and running off with him.

"I'll keep an eye on the young'un, madam!" He called behind him, Alex's short legs making her only slightly difficult to catch up with.

"Bring her home before Sunday!" Was the only reply he got before he was dragged out of hearing range.

"Sunday? That's four days away!" He exclaimed in disbelief, only for the thought to leave him as he was almost smacked in the face by a branch.

Alex decided to take him to her home first. He couldn't just get away with thinking her caretaker was unfit to take care of her! She *was* unfit, but that was a good thing to the 90-trillion-and-seventy-two-year-old nine year old.

After a few minutes of non-stop running, she took a sharp right and slowed after another minute, the not-Doctor panting as if he accidentally messed up his breathing cycle while running. Which, he probably had. From what she heard the Doctor was used to babbling while running, and the man said nothing the entire time. Alex hadn't lost her breath, focused solely on getting to her makeshift home and breathing.

"W-what is this place?" The man asked between pants. Alex strode forward quickly, going the same pace as an adult walking their own pace. Which, for a child, was fast.

The man looked around. It was a small clearing, small enough to hold only ten grown men comfortably, with a small building taking up most of that space, going at least three stories up, to his amazement. It looked like a nice home for one, and the decorations made him think that whoever lived there must be extremely rich. His eyes widened in alarm as Alex walked up, and he ran towards the errant child.

"Wait! Don't go in there!" He called, only to be ignored. When he caught up to her he was shocked that she unlocked the door with the key hanging around her neck, some twine holding it up.

"It's cool, isn't it? I had some help with the doors and locks and paint by the caretaker, but I made it myself!" She told him, gesturing to the crudely polished wood and clay constructions laying about. "This floor is where I make stuff, and I sleep on the second floor, where all the homey stuff is, and my finished but not yet installed things are kept on the third floor. The roof is made of fired clay, leaves, sticks, and planks. It's been complete for a few months, and I've been working on it since I was five!" She exclaimed, excited to show her accomplishments to *someone*.

90 trillion years and no one has ever bothered acknowledging her feats of awesomeness. She didn't accomplish anything in her first life besides gaining Death's gaze, so she didn't bother counting that.

The man looked around, amazed. "You *made* this? Does it have plumbing? Wait, no, of course it doesn't." He muttered to himself. Alex hummed, deciding not to show him the make-do plumbing she set up. She supposed constantly being undercover last life made her pretty set in the early 1910's. Plumbing, carpentry, architecture, engineering, blacksmithing... She could quite a bit of cash just doing that. Though her plumbing was a bit rudimentary, reusing the same water, filtering things through multiple times so the water was as clean as rainwater could be... She didn't know much else besides how to create and use water pressure.

"You're rather brilliant for your age, and to think your matron doesn't want you to go to school to learn more..." He trailed off as he saw the makeshift books Alex made when she got sick of not being able to write anything. The one's filled with blueprints and ideas and memories were on the second floor, these ones were drying from just being put together.

"Not really. I'm told I'm average for my age, maybe a bit behind." Alex commented casually, not really paying any attention as she got a stone knife and started carving a block of wood. 90 trillion and she doesn't know everything, so yeah, just a bit behind. A bit. She didn't notice the man stare at her, as, in the next moment, she stood up and ran for the door, picking up two swords that were lying by the door.

"Come on, sir! Let's go adventuring like I promised! Beware of the scarecrows! They kill," she called. He goes after her, catching the sword thrown at him. His eyes widened when he saw how sharp the sword was. It could cut through a grown tree easily!

* * *

He came back day after day and had 'adventures' each day. He was terrified during most of them, but she helped him get used to it. He was always curious as to what she was looking for, since she always seemed to leave him behind at the wrong moments to check on something, but she never told him.

* * *

 _-He based. No actual mind reading, too easy OP. Day three: Friday, he returns to the school and comes back to her building. Day four: he has off, and he goes and tried learning from her. Day five: he doesn't show up day six: dunno. Rewatch the episode when this appears and guesstimate a good idea. Month two: family appears, more fighting off scarecrows._

 _ **-One day he spent hours looking for her after she vanished, only for her to appear and say that she found it with a glimmer in her eyes. She didn't answer him, obviously. It confirmed her suspicions that John was the Doctor minus a few memories and a heart.**_

 _-They quickly became friends, even after John found out she was a girl and not a little boy who should be in school. He admitted later that he cock blocked himself to hang out with her and learn more._

 ****"Idea: elongate to make an excellent few chapters. "John Smith Arc" since a few months goes a long ways.****

 *****Idea: he finds out he's the Doctor and accepts it, but wants to stay human(duh) after mentioning his dreams to her****

 *****Idea: she gets a headpiece and learns all there is to learn about everything that the humans know. Death later removes the headpiece****

 *****Idea: she's given the fob watch****

 *****Idea: she has her own fob watch "as a tribute to her last life"****

 *****Bad Idea: DoctorxFugitive****

* * *

"Run!" The Fugitive yelled, pulling him along as fast as she could tug him along. They were called Vashta Nerada, according to her. Shadows that eat you alive, she told him, and he believed her. It may have been only an hour since they met the day after they met the first time, he fully trusted her. To see her so scared made him push himself as fast as he could go. He was shocked when they went faster than he ever thought he could go, the Fugitive still having to slow down because of him though.

"There aren't many! They'll all be full on a rabbit or two and leave us alone! You have to run silently!" She called back, and he panted as he tried his best. They slowed significantly, but suddenly he could hear quite a bit more. The only loud noises coming from him. Suddenly she jolted him to the side, and they were running in a new direction, passing an angered boar on the way. "No! Piggy!" She pleaded, in tears as the shadows literally consumed the boar. They stopped, the shadows no longer finding need to chase them. He lifted her off her feet, setting her on his hip as he tried comforting her.

She buried her face in his neck, letting herself mourn for the boar she had named Piggy when she first met it six years ago. Six years of friendship, gone. It hurt, and for once, instead of running, she let herself _feel_ it. Then she couldn't take it anymore, and shoved it away with the rest of the deaths haunting her. Most of which she caused on purpose, to entertain Death himself.

He watched the nine year old mourn, for once acting her age as she curled into him. He slowly carried them to where he thought her home was, since he knew they were running in the opposite direction of civilization to try and lure it deeper into the forest.

After a few hours of walking, he entirely by chance stumbled back into the small clearing where the Fugitive basically lived. Wearily he pulled the key off of the Fugitive's neck, making sure not to wake her as he opened the door and locked it behind him. It was beyond dark by that time, and there was no way he was traversing the woods alone at night with the Vashta Nerada out there. He placed her into her bed, only slightly surprised when she pulled him into the bed too.

" _I only have one bed, so if you ever want to sleep over, or happen to be there while I'm sleeping, don't be worried when I decide to use you as a teddy bear. There's nowhere else for you to sleep anyway." She said, shrugging at his surprised glance._

" _It's fine, John. Even as mature as I am, if I feel something warm and unthreatening by my bedside that I can hug, I'm one hundred percent going for that shite." She further explained. She then stood up._

" _Well, let's go. Something's been leaving their meal's remains in the forest, and it's been steadily getting closer to civilization. Something tells me that the thing doing it would be anything but friendly towards humans."_

And that was that. He regretted that the situation happened as soon as it did, she said that only five or so hours prior. He was an idiot to think that she'd say that before explaining their next adventure without reason. Her reason was _the mission_. She probably knew it'd take a while, and that he wouldn't want to leave the safety of her house when they got back and it got dark out. He groaned as quietly as he could in his past self's idiocy, wincing when a nine year old foot wedged into his pant-pocket. She was entirely using him as a mattress now, curled up on his left side.

John felt like an abused teddy-bear, and figured the nine year old really shouldn't be so comfortable with him. He could be a serial killer. Or a slavery leader. Or a… He paused when the nine year old tugged sharply on his ear.

"Shut up, you're thinking too loud," She murmured. He wondered how that could happen and how he woke her up, but was once again interrupted by her muttered words, "Literally. I can physically hear your thoughts. Just stop thinking, please," She groaned, softly patting his forehead. And he did, deciding to just stare blankly up at the ceiling. Of course the kid could read minds. Why shouldn't she be able to? She's the Fugitive. He whispered sarcastically in his mind.

She mentally groaned, not having the energy to tell him that that was sarcasm. The idiot probably thought she was being literal.

* * *

She was reading, having finally found the TARDIS. She walked out of the shed and into the cottage, no one noticing her as she closed the door.

"You knew this all along and yet you watched while Nurse Redfern and I..." John Smith trailed off, looking lost.

"I didn't know how to stop you. He gave me a list of things to watch out for but that wasn't included," a dark skinned woman replied, seeming desperate. The Fugitive noticed another woman looking in the journal by moonlight through the window.

"Falling in love? That didn't even occur to him?" John Smith asked, incredulous. The Fugitive coughed, gaining attention as she snapped the book shut.

"John, if you were 80 years old and had loved and lost over twenty of your loves platonic or romantic due to war, or enemies... If you were that old, and had your heart broken numerous times, and all of a sudden needed to forget everything to save the world, would you think of romance? Or would you be more focused on saving people, and not eating pears?" She cut in. The black woman looked shocked at the Fugitive's appearance.

"Where did you come from?" She asked, only getting a general wave at the unlocked door as an answer.

"The Doctor doesn't want me to eat pears?" John asked, stuck on that point. He knew that the Fugitive made an excellent point, besides the pears. Who doesn't like pears, besides the Fugitive? The Fugitive didn't like bananas or pizza either, so he was used to the Fugitive not liking excellent foods.

"No."

"Then what sort of man is that? And now you expect me to die?" The black woman looked sad but determined.

"It was always going to end, though! The Doctor said the Family's got a limited lifespan, and that's why they need to consume a Time Lord. Otherwise, three months and they die. Like mayflies, he said."

"So your job was to execute me."

"No, you - you'll still be alive. He won't remember," the Fugitive lied, "but other than that you're still just a part of him. He's *you*, but more." The Fugitive finished, only lying about the remembering part.

"People are dying out there. They need him and I need him. Because you've got no idea of what he's like. I've only just met him. It wasn't even that long ago. But he is everything. He's just everything to me and he doesn't even look at me, but I don't care, because I love him to bits. And I hope to God he won't remember me saying this." A explosion shook the room, having fallen close by.

"It's getting closer." A teenager that the Fugitive didn't deem important said. He was cute though. Would make a good Harry Potter, if he were alive when they needed an actor for the role.

"I should have thought of it before. I can give them this. Just the watch. Then they can leave and I can stay as I am." The Fugitive watched in disappointment as John said that.

"You can't do that!"

"If they want the Doctor, they can have him."

"He'll never let you do it."

"If they get what they want, then, then..." They all watched his shoulders slump as his desperation and logic warred against each other.

"Oh. Well, if you want to stay human, John... I could always just save the day. You'd, obviously, be with me while I do so, being my companion and all, but it could happen." The Fugitive said.

"Then it all ends in destruction. I never read to the end, but those creatures would live forever to breed and conquer, for war across the stars for every child. Martha, Timothy, other girl, would you leave us alone, please?" The woman that was quiet for the most part spoke up. The Fugitive rolled her eyes.

"Wow, rude." She muttered as she walked the ways back into the TARDIS and leaned against the bar, waiting for it to be over. It was over sooner than she thought, and soon the Doctor and Martha, as that other woman called her, walked in.

"The Fugitive, right? Oh, you're so young! I haven't seen you this young since... Ever! You saved me, too! Multiple times! Wow, you were *much* nicer as a kid!" The Doctor ranted. The Fugitive rolled her eyes.

"Doctor, shut it. We both know I've saved you more times than that. Plus, I genuinely liked John Smith," she sniped, in a terrible mood after her favorite human became no longer human.

"I, wow, I tutored you! To think, I taught you something you... Didn't care about," he grumbled when he saw her amused look. She handed him the book she borrowed from the TARDIS. His eyes turned sad, but hopeful.

"Come with us. Please. We can go anywhere, anywhen. You know she likes you, please." He said. She hesitated. A life of adventure, one where instead of causing death and destruction she could save people, entertain Death in an entirely new way... And inevitably have Death lose interest when she became just another companion.

"Tell me, Doctor. Have you seen me die, yet?" At his grim silence she walked out, the TARDIS dematerializing behind her. He hadn't, and he wouldn't. She, who only wished to die, him, who ran from the hauntings of Death. They'd never be able to be together. Not as companions, not as two travelers, no. Not that version of him.

"So, Timothy. You tell me, should I utterly destroy the countries causing World War One, or should I let it run its course?" She asked, watching as Timothy truly thought it over.

"Let it run its course. You'd destroy the entire world, if the title for the War is anywhere near true." The Fugitive nodded, understanding his words.

"Then I'll spend the next century learning all I can and improving my skills until I master anything that fancies my tastes at the moment." She muttered to herself.

* * *

"Tch, what's he doing? He's a kid! He doesn't even know what he's reading, let alone how to survive on his own. He probably just runs away for a few days before getting hungry and crawling back," Baines said. The Fugitive looked up.

"I'm reading a Physics book, and I've built a house, bought property, own a farm, and frequently sell alcohol to you and your friends under codename Fugitive. Do you really think that I crawl back to the orphanage? I end up providing food for the orphanages during certain times, Baines." The Fugitive snapped, and John looked at Baines.

"I thought you said that you were planning on saving that for when you were _seventy_!" John scolded, "Not sell it to school boys! Baines, is this true? Do you buy alcohol from the Fugitive?"

Baines' face was extremely pale as he lied through his teeth. "No, sir, I've never heard of the Fugitive, let alone bought alcohol from him." The Fugitive smirked, before sighing.

"Yeah, I just made that last bit up," The Fugitive lied, mouthing "you owe me" to Baines before continuing, "But I _have_ accomplished everything else. Please don't lower my intelligence levels by breathing near me, kid." The Fugitive observed as Baines bit his tongue to stop himself from retorting. He didn't know a _kid_ was the alcohol provider, and that the kid was smarter than him and his buddies combined! It was another Latimer! Except more… sly. None of them knew the headmaster was listening in at another table.

"There's no way you actually understand that Physics book, Alex." Baines claimed. The Fugitive hummed, shrugging as she continued reading.

"While I don't yet understand the entirety of Physics, having just started the book, this is rather simplistic language. Atoms, matter, inertia, gravity, velocity, momentum, etcetera. I know what each of those are and what each of those means. Do you, Baines?" The Fugitive asked plainly, watching Baines scowl at her. She understood. It was never fun to have someone smarter than you _and_ more cunning than you in the same room.

"I refuse to believe that you know what all of those means. You're a kid! Ten at most!" Baines argued.

"Atoms are what makes up everything. Matter is everything that is, whether it be air or stars or us. Inertia is something at its natural state of rest or uniform motion, I believe. Gravity is what keeps me from being able to jump from the ground to the top of this building, though I'm still working on doing that- that'd be _cool._ Velocity is speed of movement in one direction, I think, maybe it's just movement in general? And momentum is why you go flying if your bike suddenly stops. It's all the energy put in one thing going in a certain direction. I like using it to jump around." The Fugitive explained calmly, shrugging at the one's she didn't quite know.

"That's correct. And if those accomplishments you said are true... How old are you again?" A voice cut in, and they all looked towards the one who spoke. It was the headmaster of the school, and the Fugitive shrugged.

"I'm nine, I think. I never really knew my birthday so I chose spring." The Fugitive stated, irritated that her reading was still being interrupted.

"Are you really the Fugitive? From Fugitive Corporations?" The headmaster asked, and the Fugitive nodded, confused.

"Yeah, why? I use it in company name even though I'm only one person, but yeah. I am Fugitive Corporations. I make money off of selling some food and trinkets and stuff." The Fugitive explained at John's confused glance towards her.

"Is there any proof you can give?" The headmaster asked, and she shrugged, digging around her pockets for the unfinished fire trinket.

"Yeah, here," She hands over the unpainted trinket, "It's unfinished as of yet, but I was in town yesterday buying some paints and stuff so I can finish it in a few minutes if you want to buy it off of me for a shilling or two."

It was ridiculously overcharged, but they all could easily afford to buy it if they wanted it. They were all rich there. The headmaster checked and double checked, even triple checking before handing it back.

"You're well known around these areas for your paint job, so go right ahead boy. I'll add in another shilling if it's excellent." The headmaster agreed. The Fugitive glanced at John before shrugging.

"This has sentimental value, so of course I'll do it well, sir." She said, jumping off the table and stumbling for a moment, having forgotten her injuries before jogging to a room she passed earlier. It was rather bare, and didn't have much that could be ruined by paint.

"Is there any brushes, or do I have to go get my own? That'd add another few minutes to the creation of this piece." The Fugitive asked, and was supplied with some rather high-quality shoddy brushes. She scowled at them. It would do. She put in all her anger and burning hatred and memories of all the fires she's ever seen or felt or created. She was done a few minutes later, like she said she'd be, and walked it over to the headmaster. While she walked with it in her hand, while it was still drying, it looked like a true flame, flickering with the light peeking through the windows. It was her best work yet, mainly because it was the only one she actually tried at. Most were made out of boredom or trying to calm down, not out of her implicit need to put all her anger into a single trinket.

"Oh, come now, you didn't have to set the Fugitive's work on fire when you messed up the paint job!" The headmaster scolded, "If you didn't want to admit that you weren't the Fugitive you could have just _told us so_. His work… All undone," He ended. The Fugitive shrugged, setting the painted sculpture down.

"You'll have to give it a few hours to dry, but I can assure you, sir, that's actually a painted sculpture with my marking on the bottom and everything. _Don't_. Touch it until the sun goes down. We need to be careful, because it's my best work as of yet and if you mess it up in impatience I'm demanding a Euro for it instead," the Fugitive snapped, still in a bad mood from forcing all of her heated emotions at painting the fire. That's how she did her painting. Pushing all her emotions into her brushstroke, the perfect meditation for her.

"The fire is frozen… It's not an actual fire," John stuttered, and the Fugitive rolled her eyes at him.

" _Noooooo,_ " She said, sarcasm so heavily layed on that not even the remains of the Titanic were as drenched as that one word. She wasn't a morning person. It was morning. John looked at her in shock, before looking again in dubious curiosity.

"Are you, the nine year old _genius_ , cranky like a toddler?" He asked, voice rising in disbelief. She scowled at him darkly. She was beaten and bruised all over, had two black eyes, a massive headache, and two hours before she woke up on a normal day, and he had the right to call her _like a toddler_? Her face smoothed over, and she smiled sweetly. The two men had forgotten what that smile on a _pissed woman's_ face looked like, but Baines knew that smile a bit too well from his mother.

"Oh, uh, I've got to go, had a meeting planned with Latimer, er, Tim, and I can't be late." Baines stuttered, running from the room. He was expecting a massive outburst, but that's not what the Fugitive was known for, no. She was cool, collected, and tried not to think of ways to gently steer them to their early demise.

"No. I'm okay," She said brightly, going back to her book. They could both go and shove their… in unsavory places. In _each other_ , for all she cared.

* * *

She scowled as she glared after the leather-clad asshole who bumped into her.

"Hey asshole! Come back here and apologise!" She yelled, and the leather-clad man didn't stop.

"Saving the world! I'm busy!" He called over his shoulder and she found the moment to tackle him too good.

"Yeah, okay asshole. Even if you were I'd never let you." She snapped, struggling with him to try and keep him from saving the world. Death had been about to move her to another universe, and she rather liked this universe, thanks.

"What? Why not? Stop- _ah! Nn_ ," And the woman barely up to his chest managed to overpower him and pin him down, slamming his head into the cement in the process. He glowered at her and she smirked back, not relaxing for a moment.

"Because I'm the Fugitive. And I bring Death and Destruction everywhere. Or... I will, eventually." She replied, pouting. She still hadn't managed to get off of Earth. None of the parts for a Vortex Manipulator existed until 2047. It was 2005.

"What? That's not what you're known for," the leather-clad asshole said, confused.

"Oh god how did I manage to fuck up my one job *this* time?" I groaned, slumping and slamming my head into his shoulder.

"Oi! Put your hands in the air! You're under arrest!"

* * *

"Hello! Hello? Fugitive! Are you there? It's me, the Doctor! Can I come in?" He called, and the Fugitive looked up. _Oh_ , he's back. 65 years later and _he's back_.

"It took you sixty five years! I bet it wasn't even your choice to visit, you bastard! I still miss John!" She called back, clicking a button. The door slammed wide open for the damned man. He gaped at her. She was just… She looked in her twenties!

"What? The Fugitive… you're…" The Doctor said, and the Fugitive sighed heavily. He didn't believe her when she said she'd _always_ be there if he needed her. _Always_. As in, never died. Shitty, that.

"Young? I know. Fuck man. What happened? Why're you in need of your semi-immortal friend?" The Fugitive asked, brushing herself off as the Doctor and Martha walked in. Martha gaped at the scowling twenty-something chick.

"Oh, um. I'm in need of a place to stay for a while. I'm trying to figure out a way to get back, but I'm coming up with nothing… I don't even have a nice little note or anything." He mutters, disappointed. The Fugitive hummed.

"No TARDIS? Is it stuck in the future?" She asked. The Doctor and Martha nodded and she glanced at the time.

"1 in the morning, 1969. Today. This month. Gotcha. That was what that noise was. I woke myself up at 1 in the morning. I'm an asshole." She muttered, gripping at the Doctor. She hugged him, tears coming to her eyes.

"I'm alone and aging, and you can't even take me with you? Rude, how I set this up. Well, not aging, but I'm alone and other's age… Which sucks, for me. For us. Doctor, do you recall the year, day, time, and place you left your TARDIS? I can just wait it out and retrieve it for you. Already have, technically." She asked, letting her age-addled mind jump around. The Doctor and Martha looked at her, confused. The Fugitive rolled her eyes.

"Doctor. I don't age. Your box is stuck in the future." She tries explaining. The Doctor stares at her blankly, Martha staring blankly at her as well. The Fugitive waits just a moment before sighing heavily. She requested the time and place, and this time he told her. She then proceeded to guide them out to their TARDIS.

"What? How'd it get here? That's…. Oh." He said, suddenly understanding. He jumps up and runs around, talking a mile a minute excitedly, turning and grinning at her. His grin fades at her weak, sad smile.

"You'll come back for me, right? Just before you leave for good… I'm bored, here on Earth. There's always more to learn, yeah, but I can't exactly jump around like a squirrel on steroids when I'm going the slow path…" She requested, and he looked at her seriously. He thought about it, and then he grinned eagerly. Her heart hurt.

"Stop," She demanded before he spewed out lies. Her heart hurt enough, but she was surprised when his grin stayed.

"There's another immortal! His name is Jack Harkness, and I'm sure you two will get along fine! I'm not sure _when_ he is, but I know that he is." The Doctor called, and she nodded.

* * *

The Fugitive felt a warmth engulf her as another person latched onto the exterior of the dematerializing TARDIS. She grinned.

"Ah! So you must be this Jack Harkness person he spoke of, if he's not letting you join either!" She called just before the man behind her died. She sighed. Maybe not the immortal she was looking for, then.

The Fugitive gaped at the asshole that breathed himself back to life.

"Oh, that is _so_ not fair! You get to die before waking back up!" The Fugitive smacked his shoulder. He looked at her, confused. She grinned at him.

"Hello, I'm the Fugitive. Immortal. You're Jack Harkness, right?" She formally introduced herself and he grinned at her.

"Captain Jack Harkness. Nice to meet you," He flirts, as seems to be his natural state. She grinned back.

"Oh don't start," The Doctor groaned, only to yelp as his feet are swept out from under him, "Ouch! What was that for?"

"You _forced me through the Time Vortex, you asshole!"_ The Fugitive kicked the Doctor once more, "You get _no say_ on how Jackie boy here exists, bastard," She muttered, before grinning at Jack again.

"So, now that our trouble is out of the way. We're both immortal, and we both are after the Doctor for one reason or another, seems like we have a lot in common already." The Fugitive flirts, as was her normal state after puberty hit her. Jack grinned at her, and they knew they'd be the best of friends. You don't fuck with forever, and they both just got their hands on some forever.


	11. Marry Me, Donna

"I _told_ you Lance was poisoning us Donna! You didn't believe me, well here's the proof! _Now_ will you marry me?" A woman's voice called loudly, causing the Doctor's head to snap up. There were two women on _his_ ship, a brunette and a ginger.

"What?" He asked quietly, being ignored by both women. The redhead looked at him before turning to the brunette.

"Now is _not_ the time, Katherine! This wasn't _Lance_ , we just got _kidnapped_ by whoever the hell _that_ is!" The redhead, Donna, snapped to Katherine, the brunette. Katherine rolled her eyes and stood from her kneel, tucking the engagement ring and its encompassing box away.

"That's ridiculous! We have _nothing_ in common besides our job and the fact that we've been best friends since birth! _And_ I wasn't even invited to the wedding that you were _just_ at! There's no _way_ that that man would be able to kidnap us at the same time, alien or not! I _told_ you Lance was poisoning you from the first sip I had of the coffee he made you!" Katherine yelled at Donna, neither woman paying attention as the Doctor had a mini breakdown. Two extremely _domestic_ woman were aboard _his ship_ while it was in _flight!_

"Well since you seem to think you know _everything_ who is _he, and what the hell are we doing here!?_ " Donna snapped back, just as loudly.

"He's an alien whose ship has what Lance _poisoned_ you with running through it which teleported us here! It's called Huon energy and _you were being poisoned with it!"_ Katherine said in a whisper-shout, the Doctor not hearing due to utter confusion and shock.

" _Stop making stuff up! Just admit when you don't know something!"_ Donna shouted, as loud as she could.

" _It's the truth and for fuck's sake believe me just this once!"_ Katherine yelled back, just as loud.

"What?" The Doctor asked louder, and they both turned to him. Their attentions were focused on him for but a moment before Katherine spoke once more.

"See? He doesn't even _know_ what the hell is going on! This is _Lance's_ doing!" Katherine insisted, much quieter but still rather loudly.

"Wha- How'd you two get on my ship? You can't do that. I wasn't. We're in flight. That is, that is physically impossible!" The Doctor finally yelled. Katherine gave him an irritated look.

"Oh, I'm sorry, were you invited into this conversation? No? Then _stay out_ , _Martian Boy,_ " She snapped, turning to Donna.

"Oh for god's sake, he _isn't an alien_ ," Donna groaned, "Stop making wild accusations!"

"Marry me and I mi-" Katherine started, going to pull out the ring.

"That's not even _legal_! No!" Donna said, and the Doctor had had enough.

" _Enough!_ " He yelled. It was silent, Katherine making a face at him just before he said it, as if she expected it. The silence didn't last long. With Donna, it never really did.

"Tell me where I am. I demand you tell me right now where am I?" Donna ordered. The Doctor ran around his alien console, and Katherine frowned, looking around. It was smaller than she thought it'd be, being an alien spaceship. Maybe the hallways lead somewhere? She started towards them.

"Inside the TARDIS." He answered, much more calmly than he appeared to be.

"The what?" Donna asked.

"The TARDIS."

"The what?"

"The TARDIS!"

"The _what?_ "

"It's called the TARDIS."

Donna rolled her eyes, annoyed disbelief all over her face. "That's not even a proper word! You're just saying things," She snapped. The Doctor looked up from the console, noting Katherine jogging towards the hallway leading further into the TARDIS. He ran to catch up, blocking her way.

"No, this is _my_ ship, don't go further into it. It's easy to get lost in." The Doctor ordered quietly to her, and Katherine stared blankly up at him. Eventually she sighed and walked back to Donna.

"See Katherine? He kidnapped us! Tell me, who was it? Who's paying you? Is it Nerys? Oh my God, she's finally got me back. This has got Nerys written all over it." Donna said. Katherine looked at Donna, shaking her head.

"Who the hell is Nerys?" The Doctor inquired, face still stuck in a mix between shock and disbelief.

"Your _best friend_ ," Donna snapped, and Katherine rolled her eyes. While they were arguing she tried sneaking past the Doctor and had her hood grabbed.

"Hold on, wait a minute," the Doctor started, " _Not so fast, Katherine,_ " he warned before continuing, "What are you dressed like that for?" The Doctor asked, keeping a tight grip on Katherine's hood. Katherine sulked.

"I'm going ten pin bowling. Why do you think, dumbo? I was halfway up the aisle! I've been waiting all my life for this. I was just seconds away, and then, and then, what are you doing?" Donna started, only to get distracted as she watched the Doctor drag Katherine over, pushing her into Donna's arms.

"Keep your pet _away_ from those corridors, they can get _lost_ ," the Doctor ordered, much to Katherine's dismay. Her? Getting lost? Nah. She could track Donna down at any time, so how could she get lost if Donna was still at center hull?

"Oh, _thanks_ , she's _exactly_ the pet I've always wanted!" Donna said sarcastically. Katherine perked up, excited.

"Really? Then will you-"

" _No_ ," Donna snapped. Katherine deflated. Ouch. Katherine was pulled along by Donna as they ran towards the exit that Donna spotted. They both ignored his shouts and stopped just before they fell out. Katherine shrugged off her coat, putting it around Donna's shoulders when she figured out it was a bit chilly with the doors open. Donna pulled the coat around her, making a face.

"You're a twig, why do you have a coat that could fit _three_ of me?" Donna asked, and Katherine shrugged. The Doctor walked up as they looked out at the nebula. It was beautiful.

"You're in space. Outer space. This is my spaceship. It's called the TARDIS."

"How am I breathing?"

"The TARDIS is protecting us."

"Who are you?"

"I'm the Doctor. You?"

"Donna. This is Katherine. She doesn't speak much." Donna said, missing the Doctor's dubious glance at Katherine, before glancing at her.

"Humans?"

"Yeah. Is that optional?"

"Well, it is for me."

"You're an alien." Donna stated flatly.

"Yeah." The Doctor replied, and Katherine nodded.

Donna looked at Katherine in disbelief, and Katherine decided to stare at the Doctor in that moment instead. "Hey, Doctor. If I told you the truth, repeatedly, and was proven right, repeatedly, and then one day I told you something utterly ridiculous, like, that you'd have a human counterpart one day, or that you'd meet this one alien that knows your personal future, or something equally ridiculous like you marrying a part-human part-alien… Would you believe me?" She asked softly, and the Doctor looked at Katherine. Not just a passing glance, but a full on look, and hummed.

"Well, if everything you had said before was true, and you predicted it _extremely_ accurately, then yeah, I would." He commented, and Katherine nodded sadly.

"Now if only my best friend and one-sided love would have the same logic as you. She will one day, I know. But this is just…" Katherine trailed off and Donna gaped.

"You said Huon energy brang us here. Martian Boy, do you know what Huon energy is?" Donna asked, desperate for Katherine to be proven wrong. Donna _loved_ Lance. She did! So… If what Katherine said was true, then Donna would be heartbroken.

"What? Huon energy? That's- That's impossible. That's _ancient_. Huon energy doesn't exist anymore, not for billions of years." The Doctor said, and Donna looked relieved before Katherine spoke up.

"You can check, though. Both Donna and I are saturated in Huon energy, we drank poisoned coffee for six months. It's spider-aliens. They were hiding from a war or something. They look kinda cool." She murmured, barely audible. The Doctor slammed the doors shut and ran back to get a few items.


	12. Dreams

I woke up like I usually did; I was annoyed, _someone_ was in my room, and _the damned lights were too bright_. Well. Usually I was already at least half-awake, or brooding in my own thoughts, curling up with my cat. But sometimes, I genuinely got woken up like that, and those were the times where I was _pissed_. So I curled back in bed, groah-ing at the damned asshole who dared enter my spider cave.

"Oooh! It _smells_ in here! Like… Like dead rats! And- argh!" I felt a body collide with my bed, and I was less than amused… I was more than amused. Served that bastard right, tripping over any assortment of random items. Now, to others they might say my room was dirty, but it was just clothes and cardboard and plastic on the floor. So _I_ just said it was messy. I was irritated, though. Still. Because that _voice_ , was _not_ one of my families. It was the Doctor's, David Tennant version. Unless he pretended to have a british accent in any other shows? Which meant that I was dreaming. It sucked, I just wanted to have that inky goodness that sleep _should_ be, when I was this tired.

I felt a body plop itself on where my cat was. I smiled sleepily as I heard my cat defend herself. Soon, the body was pressed against mine, taut with pain as the person slowly removed my cats claws from his flesh one nail at a time.

"A little help would be nice, May." The voice asked, in pain. I sighed heavily, and sat up, glaring at the blurry figure of the Doctor. Of David Tennant.

"Oh, I'm sorry, who just woke me up with a _bright light and loud noises_? You? Good to know. Face the wrath of a woken kitty," I muttered, rubbing my eyes to rid them of the sleep dust. I saw the episode, I'm not risking it. I was shocked when my vision cleared. This was a dream, that shouldn't happen. I shouldn't have five fingers in a dream, too. I groaned, picking up a random paper. It was a fanfiction. Go figure. I toss it aside, looking for a book. Even my subconscious knew those words by heart. I've been trying to complete the story for _years_.

I toss a Harry Potter book at his face, grabbing another exact copy that my brother threw in my room a while back and never bothered retrieving.

"Page, er, seventy-two, first word," I snapped, and he didn't question it as he opened the book.

"Good. Why?" He replied, looking like a lost puppy. He even had the cat glaring at him, adding to the affect.

"Page one twenty three, last word."

"Over excited," He said, voice showing his exasperation, "Look, I'd love to read you bedtime stories - truly, I would! - but now is _not_ the time. I need - where's your Vortex Manipulator? And your sonic?" He said, looking around in confusion.

"Lost 'em," I muttered, just going along with it. He was a time traveler, and this _wasn't a dream._ Obviously I retrieved a Vortex Manipulator and Sonic somewhere in between there.


	13. Dare to Exist

**What gave me The Angel's Diary idea.**

I jumped. I fell. I _flew_. And it was amazing. I grinned as I flew higher than any human ever has before, above even the highest of planes and felt the beauty of life as I let myself freefall down, down, down.

Adrenaline coursed through my system, and I ignored the shouted warnings and let myself almost crash before pulling up and swooping just above the abandoned area. I laughed as I flew about, doing loops that I shouldn't know how to do, flying recklessly and succeeding at every stunt I pulled. I flew higher and higher, barely able to breathe, and I let myself almost black out before free falling once again, zooming down and down and down. Let me tell you, humans weren't supposed to fly for a reason. But it was fucking amazing when you could.

It wasn't like being in a plane, no. There wasn't the fear of crashing or falling or exploding, no matter how small the fear was, no. It was like running. Were you afraid of falling when running? Or walking? No, you weren't. Aren't. Because you know you can catch yourself. Having wings and flying was the same thing. Physically taxing, and absolutely brilliant once you get past the burning of the lungs and the physical exertion. You'll never meet a runner who hates running. Even the ones that were lazy assholes who hated running at one point in time. I haven't yet met a person who hated walking, either. Flying was the same analogy.

I blinked in shock when bullets flew by me and I let myself freefall, making it seem like I was shot. Holy hell, don't scare me when I'm thinking of good analogies for flying! I frowned, letting myself drop to the ground with a few good flaps of my wings. My grey wings.

My … unnatural acquisition, I supposed. Yeah, I had wings. No, no one else had wings. I was in the United States, too, so the government would happily rip me apart for the sake of science… Oops, didn't think of that. Was a bit busy feeling awesome. Hmm. Okay, that's a problem. I hide my wings, and am confused when they vanish. Retractable wings? How did they fit in my back? Or… Did they just literally vanish? Oh no! Did I lose my wings? I just got them! I calmed down a bit when they reappeared for a moment before vanishing again. Oh, good, okay, they're just hiding conveniently.

I look around, confused when soldiers surround me. I wondered why they were surrounding me. I mean, I was just a random person in a forest. No wings in sight. So what did they want with me? Their guns pointed at me, a man stalked forward. He wasn't a soldier, no. Soldiers don't wear suits. Or converse. I tilted my head at him, curious. Who the hell was he, and why did those soldiers think he was the leader.

"Hello! I'm the president of the world. You can just call me the Doctor." He stated, and I shrugged. Right, like he existed. President of the world? Doctor? That man was part of a TV show, not reality. The man -who really _did_ look like David Tennant, now that I thought of it- scrunched his nose at me.

"Oh, that's new. No one has ever _shrugged_ at my introduction. Even when I didn't add that I was president of the world…" The man, that I'm refusing to call the Doctor, said amicably. I liked the Doctor, he was cool and amazing and _nonexistent, unrealistic._ So I refused the facts. I looked closer at the soldiers. They looked… Cliche. Like what you'd expect American soldiers to look like if you weren't from America. They looked like a mix of FBI and riot control. Unrealistic, really. I scrunch my nose while looking around.

"Damn, this is a dream, isn't it? Wings, flying, cliche idiotic American soldiers, and the _Doctor_. I wonder, I bet I'd be shot if I so much as took a step, because of the trigger-happy American cliche?" I frowned at the Doctor. I walked forward, all the soldiers aiming their guns at me. I stopped, an irritated look crossing my face.

"Tell your dogs to lower their guns, Doctor. _I'm_ not the threat here." I snapped, like the irritated teenager I was. Was I nineteen or eighteen? Dunno, but I certainly wasn't twenty.

"Oh, er, lower… your guns." The Doctor said lamely. He had been blatantly gaping at me for my entire spiel. Don't know why, but he did. My face went back to its relaxed frown, as per usual. I walked towards the Doctor, stopping barely a foot away and observed him.

"You… Are… Yeah, okay, this is a dream. So, what do you want?" I asked, backing away to a more acceptable distance of five meters away. Introverted I may be, but that distance put me away from the soldiers. I was in the center of the circle once more. Yay, firing squad.

"You had wings. You fell out of the sky. You aren't human, what planet do you come from?" The Doctor asked, authority in his voice. I blanked. I wasn't human? Since when? Hm. This is a dream… I had grey wings… Curly hair… What alien had grey wings, curly hair… Oh! _Oh_ , _this'll be fun!_

"I'm actually part human, I'll have you know! I'd be stone if I weren't, actually." I commented, giving the indicator for the Doctor to pick up on. He looked extremely confused, and I shrugged. He didn't know the alien yet? I'll give him another hint. My grey wings appeared behind me, and I comically lost my balance. I was already leaning back, add a few extra pounds and I fall. I snickered at myself, standing up and brushing myself off. Guns were pointed at me because of the flailing limbs and sudden movement. I flexed my wings.

"What species are you from? What did the humans mate with this time?" The Doctor asked. I screwed my face up, looking around at the humans. Ugh, humans. If I wasn't a human I'd say all of them were bad. As it was, I still thought all humans were bad. I smiled.

"You know them. Come on, Doctor, _think_. Or blink. See what happens then." I replied, walking forward and reaching out slowly. His eyes looked into mine and I could see his thoughts whooshing past, being seen and disregarded in the same moment.

"Blink? Stone? What…" And then it hit him, and he stumbled back, my fingers almost having brushed against him. Damn, that would've been funny. Except when nothing would have happened, since I wasn't _actually_ part Weeping Angel. I still found it highly amusing, though, as the Doctor panicked.

Guns were focused on me and I looked around, amused. I slowly walked back to the center.

"Keep your eyes on her! She's- don't blink! Don't let her touch you!" The Doctor called, eyes staring intently at me as his panic rose when I smirked at him, waving.

"Sorry, Doctor, if I may ask, what will not blinking do? I can already move, and I _am_ part human." I asked, voice raised and confident even as adrenaline rushed through my veins. I stretched my wings out slowly. I could flap them at the speed of fast, so I was sure I could fly up before they could shoot. And by sure, I meant hoping. Desperately hoping, because the Doctor was panicking and American soldiers usually shot at whatever made their leader scared.

"Oh, _oh ew!_ Humans! They- wow, I didn't think Weeping Angels stooped _that_ low, oh that is _disgusting_." The Doctor stated, walking forward once more as his face twisted in disgust.

"Oi! Don't diss my parents!" I called, "Plus, if you really think that Weeping Angels would mate with a human you're more stupid than I thought you were."

It didn't register for a few moments before the Doctor frowned at me, "That's rude, I was panicking. I _never_ panic. You made me panic!"

I shrugged, grinning. "Sorry mate, couldn't help myself. It was the only alien race I knew with grey wings. Plus, your reaction was worth almost getting shot at." I laughed, "Yeah, I'm human. With wings. I'm a genetically modified human, I guess." I shrugged once more before my grin faded.

"If you're human, how do you know about Weeping Angels?" The Doctor asked. I shrugged, and tilted my head.

"Dunno, because this is a dream and I know everything in my dreams? Or maybe it's because I came from a place and time where they were in a TV show and weren't real?" I suggested, and the Doctor gaped at me for a moment more. Disbelief showed on his face.

"A dream… Why would this be a dream? What would make you think that this was a dream?" He asked, and I hummed.

"Hmmm, let's see… I "woke up" on the edge of a… thing… I jumped, was falling, suddenly gained wings and started _flying_. Got shot at, the bullets conveniently missed. Then _you_ appear, and _you_ don't exist. The Doctor doesn't exist. Well, I mean, he isn't _real_. He's just a character in the show Doctor Who. Which sucks for me, because he's always a sexy, clever, _rude_ Time Lord who really should just get over himself. Or herself. Unsure if I should really count her as "The Doctor" when the end of Peter's Doctor said that he let that title go… Whatever." I ranted, wondering when I'd wake up. It was silent before I perked up.

"Oh! Oh! It's starting soon, too! The season! Ooh, I should wake up soon, so I can- so I can… Ah, this isn't a dream, is it?" I suddenly stop myself, looking around and feeling the breeze. I can feel _some_ things in my dreams, but _wind?_ No chance. I sighed heavily.


End file.
